Walking The Catwalk

Press Show, Paris Collections, Pret a Porter, Chantal Thomas, womenswear, Mrs V , The Model edit, www.themodeledit.com, Vanessa Voegele-Downing, modelling, catwalk, french designer fashion, redhead, model


Countdown to London Fashion Week S/S,17 so I give you old style me, Mrs V, wearing Chantal Thomas in both shots and feeling solid about it. Chantal Thomass made really feminine  clothes and sensational lingerie, not that I was need to model that… Apart from the very dated shoes I think that no-one would throw stones at me if I stood waiting for the 137 anywhere along it’s route. It does look a bit like I couldn’t decide which scarf and where, thought sod it I’ve got this, and self confidence is a marvellous thing.


chantal Thomas, Mrs V, www.themodeledit.com, Vanessa voegele-Downing, model, french fashion, catwalk, press show, Paris, redhead, supermodel


Again Chantal Thomass Press Show, Carree du Louvre.  All the model edit is saying is that the collections are really fun to watch but unforgettable to walk.

 Am I moonlighting in a Pantomime  as principal boy?

Just The Clothes Please.

Firstly, I sort of do want to apologise for ‘picking on’ Rick Owens. Whilst it’s true that I’m  not a fan, I do admire his candour and his earnest and egotistical belief in what he’s doing. Rick Owens is representative of some designers  from this generation, and because of that he serves my purpose well.  As yet, I’m not a front row regular at Press shows, although I should be as  I need to ask; is everyone sitting  tight on  their front seat thrones, scared of losing their footings? Will no one give an honest unbiased opinion. Why is no one pointing and laughing? Truly Mr Owens, whilst your furniture is fabulous ( and I definitely think that’s the way to go), your clothes are patronising, unwearable in their catwalk state ( you do amend these for people that go to the toilet right?) and are body binding. Don’t think Azzedine Alaia or Herve Leger, think more a Gladys Aylward scenario, and therefore tyrannical and not liberating. I am probably a Mastodon in so far that my model mates and I are largely extinct on the catwalks of today, however my memory of Yves Saint Laurent expounding the motivation behind his each and every collection is nil. Yes, that’s because he didn’t have to, his clothes did the talking, not his ego.

Yves Saint Laurent, vintage couture knitted wedding dress, knitwear, mannequin,

Yves Saint Laurent Haute Couture Knitted Wedding Dress 1965

I’m bored of being lectured by designers about their creations. I want their creations to wander freely in my imagination, to interpret them for myself, and to let my imagination ensnare the items that I will be wearing because they speak directly to me. I don’t need an interpreter to tell me why I like something. I also don’t need my conscience pricked by a couturier, I have all my other senses honed to that. Spare us the designer doctrines, editorialised despite any genuine responsibility to us the customer. What happened to clothes shopping being a treat, an escape or just fun? I don’t want to be beaten about the head by a banner waving designer. Please leave my body image and wardrobe aesthetics out of the political forum.  Another thing, where exactly does this fashion fawning stop? I don’t care which model ‘opened’ or ‘closed’ the show. Will we get to the point where the model is questioned about the angst or joy behind her interpretation of the clothes that she’s modelling, why she particularly paused before she snapped round and headed back up the runway, was that her statement on world peace, who cares? Certainly not themodeledit .Tell you what designers, you send out the clothes. Fashion editors, you report on them, honestly and then, given the above information, we your audience/clients, will make an informed choice. Not designers, because you felt the need to validate the existence of your clothes by sewing a metaphorical poem into them. We don’t need your poem, we need you to spread before us your collections, we’ll channel the rest. It goes like this; “does my bum look big in this?”  etc, etc, because if it does, I ain’t buying it. Even if it was inspired by a sonnet written by Shakespeare and dedicated to the travesty of Elizabethan  Plague deaths.

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Mrs V and London Fashion Week.

Johnnie Boden, Emerging British Talent party, Union Club, Tuxedo Jacket, redheads, Boden, Boden Catalogue, staircase, private members club
London Fashion Week, Brewer Street Car Park Show Space, Mrs V, www.themodeledit.com, Vanessa Voegele-Downing, fashion, Prada Bag, Ray Ban Aviator Sunglasses, Adidas sweatpants

London Fashion Week inspired me to go everywhere, see everything, talk to everyone and wear everything residing in my wardrobe that simply doesn’t love the mud of Dorset. I must say a huge thank you to all my fashion mogul friends that have helped me on my mission, to infiltrate, illuminate and pontificate about fashion for people that are not teenagers but shouldn’t be sartorially sidelined just because of that. Lovely Modus Publicity are ever supportive and tolerant of my desire to be included and treated like a fully grown up blogger. Johnnie Boden, fellow swamp dweller down here in Dorset, didn’t bat an eyelid when I asked for help. My invitation arrived the next day. Huge love to him and his fully female dynasty.

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Marching On

Christian Lacroix, fashion show, press show, paris, pre a porter, cameras, paparazzi

I always miss ‘Throwback Thursday’ and invent my own day for inflicting ancient photos of myself onto you. Here I am mincing down the catwalk for Christian Lacroix. Had a thought. Wouldn’t that dress/tunic look pretty with a pair of skinny jeans and some high ankle boots and worn as a coat/jacket?

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