H&M party
“Vodka and red bull? I’d rather die.”
A fat man with a finger wave fringe balks at the free bar

MAN
Skinny woman in plaid: “I just got back from Morocco so I couldn’t go  to New York but I’m flying to Milan tonight and then onto Paris. I   simply don’t have time for the after parties.”
Skinny woman in black: “You’re the hardest working woman alive.”

Conde Nast UK girl: Fucking Newhouses!
Conde Nast US girl: Well they haven't told us (furiously typing into her Blackberry). Maybe it won't come to the US.
Conde Nast UK: I presume they are waiting until you go back to New York. You know, in case you defect, or something.
Conde Nast US: (frowning) No, my assistant says there's been no announcement.
Conde Nast UK: Oh, there will be - it's global.
Conde Nast US: (whailing) I JUST GOT MADE EDITOR! I JUST STARTED GETTING THE GOOD GIFTS! THEY CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!!
Conde Nast UK: To think, I could have been a lawyer.

Top US Buyer: Not a lot here I can buy...
Top Italian Buyer: Wait, you actually BUY British designers? How can you afford them? Me, I just let them fly me out for the parties.

UJ Loves:
Erdem's new collection. While he's always been in our top new designer's to watch, this time he really blew the audience away with a tight collection of delectable jewel-toned tailored cocktail dresses

UJ loathes:
Fed up PRs. Not our fault you keep seating the fashion students in the front row. Stop unseating people. Solution: a stack of folding chairs, or jump-seats, just like in the theatre.

Noted:
Kids in the audience = a big pain. Sort out some fricken' childcare, people.

Biggest turnout:
Undoubtably, Avshalom Gur. It was packed to the gills with industry people. Popular and talented. Rare in our industry.

Gossip:
Could Sophie Ellis Bexter have any better skin? The singer was front row at a number of shows this week, notably Ashish and Erdem, where Leah Wood also scowled from her front row perch.

UJ hearts:
Ashish's music choice. In honour of Valentine's Day, the designer started proceedings with Soko's I'll kill her. Bitter, single fashionistas (is there any other kind?) were singing along in the front row.

Respect:
Hilary Alexander has been hobbling to her front row perch on a silver-tipped cane. While lesser women may have sat the season out, Hilary is trudging through regardless of her recent back trouble. Get will soon, Hils!

On point:
Never so much spiky hair has been seen in one place since Camden’s hey-day, until the  Nico D show. Mind you, this was all in the audience. The dos ranged from green spikes to Mohawks to platinum tipped. The crowd was also quite odd; middle aged mortgage brokers, aforementioned spiky club kids, a corseted, Marie Antoinette w/ her attentive playboy and a significant number of hemp wearing hippies…??

PR Power:
The PR staff at VHS all wore their hearts on their chests for Valentines Day...awww.

Celebrity overkill of LFW:
Jamie Winstone. On the catwalk (Westwood), at the parties (Mulberry), on the front row (several) and in the arms of Lily Allen’s brother Alfie (smooching), does this girl ever sleep?

Noted:
Headbands, worn low on the forehead, whether 20s or 60s-style, it seem to be the key editorial trend.

Noted:
Grey - sorry, gris - tights are taking over the runway, especially when paired with matching monochrome shoes. The new black?

Identikit swag:
Coloured tights, cheap hair products and chocolate seem to be the swag bag gift choice. Conde Nast girls, hoard now.

Hurting:
Everyone is looking a little rough around the edges Thursday and Friday - proof that everyone comes to London just for the parties.

Toilet Trauma:
PR girl (blonde, teased coif, black dress and leggings gave it away) being comforted while blubbering “No more cone heels”.

PARTY PARTY PARTY

Thursday: Aganovich Valentine's Masquerade
 
Fashionista: Isn’t that that boy from the Gareth Pugh thing?
 
Party Princess: Sh_t. Can we swap masks? Please!? Yours is so much bigger…
 
Fashionista, after a few minutes: Coast’s clear. Ooh, now he’s cute.
 
Party Princess, sighing: I love masked balls. One of the few ways to indulge one’s slutistry without being spotted.
 
Friday: Vivienne Westwood Party
After a little confusion over the location, the Westwood party at Dolce, this year’s decadent LFW club du jour, was marvellous enough in all but one respect. Where on Earth was her royal Vivness?

BEST 0F

Best invitation of LFW: PPQ’s black and gold rosettes, which became  the accessory to be seen in all week.

Three cheers for: Aganovich. The label not only reinvented its aesthetic for AW 2008/9 (designer Nana has said goodbye her beloved  Morticia gowns) but also put on one hell of a masquerade ball. Showing on Thursday, the appropriately titled St Valentine’s Day Massacre begun ironically with a classic white wedding dress and then moved onto strongly tailored black and beige dresses emblazoned with holly and thistle embroidery, delicate chains or pearls. After the  show, the catwalk turned into a stage where the all-girl performances  by rock band Ipso Facto (loving the Purdy cuts, ladies), hula girls and The She Set DJs were thoroughly enjoyed by a masked revellers getting high on champagne and chocolate. Kelly O was in the house,  obviously.

Sparkliest show of LFW: Ashish. Continuing his Midwestern motel odyssey, he draped baggy dresses in 3Dcherries, sewed tit tassels onto sweat shirts and fashioned hounds tooth prints and pearly queen suits from black and white sequins. Sunglasses shaped like the Eiffel tower, dice or swans were stolen from Elton’s John’s yesteryear wardrobe. And for the finale, the lights were dimmed to reveal that the model’s Perspex stripper heals flashed in the dark. AMAZING. Madness mainman Suggs looked quite bewildered in the front row.

Most civilised show experience of LFW: Unconditional. Instead of leaving the fashionistas outside on the mean streets of Fitzrovia to wait for the overdue show to begin, we were invited inside to a makeshift tearoom. Waitresses served up a choice of three strengths of Yorkshire tea (very strong, just a dash of milk, please), as well as lemon cake and biscuits and then we took our seats for a show that was very much worth waiting for. For the menswear, think dandies duel  with bikers – and win. For the womenswear, Little Black Riding Hood gets lost in the woods with George Eliot. It was a truly elegant, very British affair. Although the small dog one model carried down the catwalk looked so scared it’s a wonder someone didn’t call the RSPCA.

Best twinsies:
Cone hatted sinister clowns with matching face paint in the audience at Avsh Alom Gur-not your sixth form matching outfits.

Best ‘bare necessities’ swag bag:
Vitamin water, La Maison du Chocolat liquid salted truffles and Korres body butter at Louse Amstrup. No nonsense here.

Best press room: Fluro room at On|Off, we love.

Best look: The two tall, young chaps in full war-paint at the Super Super show. If you’re going to do male make-up, I guess you may as well go all out on the Kandinsky and black-and-star-spangled looks. Well done boys.

Best ruck: Monday’s PPQ after-after-party at Dolce, where two queues, an incessant swarm of press, guestlists and blaggers, and a half- dozen surly doormen spilled out onto the corner of Air Street.

Best distraction: Between their glow-in-the-dark hula girl antics, Hannah Holland’s DJing and a cracking live set from Heartbreak, the Vs./Beyond the Valley party at Lot55 almost had us forgetting it was Fashion Week.

Seen and Heard by Helen Jennings, Emma Cheevers, Erin Dixon and Addie Chinn.