Before our Internet service providers offered dozens of TV packages, when Netflix was still just a Californian start-up, my parents had already found the solution to solve the PAF’s problem: cable piracy. As soon as Big Mother’s back was turned, I used to switch from Nickelodeon to World Fashion Channel, the only one I was really interested in. I would devour shows like some watch porn, trying to remember all the names that appeared on the screen.
I eventually discovered Alexander McQueen. A love at first sight, than can be summed up in just four letters: VOSS, a collection inspired by madness and incarceration. From the set to the creations, right up to the end of the presentation, I had never seen anything like it. I swore to myself to become a client as soon as I would be able do, which I did after my first internship. Drooling on the jewellery-clasp clutches, I was satisfied with a printed cloth pouch, bought 200 € in sales. I may have dragged it around, but it survived the rain, the alcohol, the Amsterdam strip clubs… Anyway, it’s my fashion version of a kid’s cuddly toy.
While my roommate is drinking his coffee in front of a Theresa May statement, I find myself counting all the pieces from English labels that have joined my faithful companion since. What consequences will Brexit have on fashion? How does the London scene take sides? Who are the designers conveying a message through their clothes? On which models to set sights on before the end of the divorce?
The only visa that concerns me is that of my credit card… •