I am the
last person you’d ever expect to see in the front row at fashion week. I’m not
the spouse of a ridiculously wealthy Russian oil magnate, or an ex-model who
looks way too perfect in all his instagram posts. I’m not even the BFF of Anna
Dello Russo or Grace Coddington. I’m a 21 year old “just marketing” graduate
who works in pharmaceutical recruitment. I was born in Zimbabwe, raised in
Serbia, and moved to London just three years ago to do my degree. But
somehow, I just really fucking love fashion. I love watching live streams of
Paris fashion week, following blogs of impossibly cool people, and buying way
too many editions of Vogue. Unfortunately, it all just seems so unattainable.
Sure, watching models saunter down the Met Gala red carpet in Elie Saab is
exhilarating, but I’m not one of those people. I’m just a relatively insane
person who lives in zone 2 London and happens to love all this stuff. So, I’m
starting this blog is for you, someone like me, who wants to be sitting next to
BryanBoy at Prada, but is actually lying in bed eating Tesco brownies watching
Netflix. We are the last people you’d expect to see in the front row at fashion
week, we are the front row underdogs.
