With Anna Wintour doing the rounds in London, does that mean New Yorkers can unfasten their girdles and step into sweatpants? No? Okay. Regardless, the Vogue queen has filled up her diary, letting neither McKinsey cuts nor potential power-plays distract her from her duties as America’s top fashion ambassadress. This is the first time since 2007 that Wintour has returned to her homeland for LFW. A possible breakdown of Wintour’s likely agenda follows. A less coherent travelogue can be tracked here, obviously.
Put on face.
Get zipped into age-appropriate “sexy outfit.”
Put on aviators.
Fashion shows for the day: Meadham Kirchhoff, Luella, and Marios Schwab. Assume front row seats at all events.
Scope out “young talent” talented just enough so as not to upstage her daughter, who has a tendency to befriend men sporting avian fashion. Make mental note about daughter’s chicken-man friend.
Single out favorites, like Alexa Chung, perhaps.
Break for a nice, solid lunch of steak.
Make some face time with The Telegraph’s Hilary Alexander, possibly chatting about how Vivienne Westwood really put the “fine” in “finery” with that Red Label show.
Seriously consider shoulder pads as an added intimidation tactic after Todd Lynn does a show featuring a variety of horn-shaped armor-like of them, paired with boyfriend blazers — which you miss in favor of the more innocuous Christopher Kane show.
Find a spare moment to phone home to NYC, telling Bee that maybe she can’t find a job because she is friends with men who dress like chickens.
And finally, attend a private dinner for Topshop’s Unique line. Have a friendly chat with Kate Moss and Christopher Bailey.