Kate does Debbie

Intriguing!

I don't think I will be buying any of the Kate stuff though. I've always loved her style [though it has been well-documented that the past few years of rock n roll uniformity have definitely been a drop in form] but I know I'm not alone in noticing that many of the pieces look stunning on Kate and distinctly average on the rest of us. People buying into the idea of looking like Kate will be disappointed unless they already have her hair, cheekbones, stats and general fashion nous. Much like the rest of the collection, that dress will look like A Dress, not The Dress, on most people.

My only Kate piece is a one bell-sleeved, black chiffon pussy-bow blouse from about 6 months ago. It never looks or hangs right, and has been worn once. Overall it's a nice idea and some of the clothes are pretty but several seasons of KM for Topshop have shown that trying to sell her style so bluntly just diminishes its magic, and doesn't produce anything really covetable.

For those still really keen in emulating her style, I think Topshop's other ranges inadvertently do a far better job. Particularly the Tux Delux range at the moment. I nearly cried when I tried on their beige snakeskin tux jacket. It fits exquisitely, but I cannot bring myself to buy it when I just spent £45 and innumerable visits to the tailor getting my old black second-hand men's tux altered to fit me perfectly.

Kate Moss and the House of Blue Eyes

It's been all over the papers by now - Kate's first catwalk show in 4 years.



It happened at the venue where I work now, and was the climax of a party that went off the end of the Richter scale. No-one was expecting her to walk... we thought she'd just sit back and enjoy the show.



Kate aside [well, she did look superb], it was a great party in its own right. The guests looked phenomenal - a friend of mine turned up in a coat made of stuffed toys, Bishi was there looking elegant, and I saw the most convincing drag queen I've ever witnessed - s/he was tall, very slim, with a pretty Louise Brooks face and hair, a tiny cupid mouth, and a very sharp but restrained 1930s style suit. I was admiring how pretty she looked, when she opened her mouth and out came this bellowing, unmistakeably baritone voice. Gosh! I wish I'd had my own camera on me to capture some of these wonderful creatures.



The party launched stylist Johnny Blue Eyes' label House of Blue Eyes, a punky collaboration with several designers he knows, including Giles Pearson, Carol Wiseman and others. His background is mainly in styling music videos and bands [including Scissor Sisters' 'Filthy/Gorgeous' and the amazing 1930s-swimsuit dancers in Take That's 'Shine', and that showed on the night - Ana Matronic hosted, Beth Ditto catwalked and sang, and the guestlist was longer than a life sentence.



I spent the night on four-inch heels [thankfully my own - I was offered some 1970s de Havilland shoes to wear but there's no way I could have stayed on my feet all night], helping our besieged bar staff, generally trying to control the chaos and keeping Miss Moss in alcobooze.

But my favourite bit of the whole thing wasn't so much the party as the preparation - Johnny styled me and our bar supervisor for the night, so I began the day in a dressing room in Goldhawk Road surrounded by improbably tall, thin boys and girls in various states of undress, with two hair-stylists setting about me with hairdryers. A very strange way to commence work for the day! I don't have any photos of my outfit yet - a lady did photograph me, so I'm hoping she'll send me the photos. I wore my Mango/Yousefzada dress, a little 1940s veiled hat, some black suede peep-toe platforms and an amazing necklace - a huge [fist-sized, truly] brass lion's head pendant on a metal and suede chain. Our bar supervisor looked like Jessica Rabbit in a vintage black & gold high-cut swimsuit and Brigitte Bardot hair... wonderful!



Roll on the next party...

[All photos: Lucy Johnston]

Black & white

Once, I was a girl who loved colour. Now I find myself gravitating towards monochrome. I guess in part it's down to the tuxedo obsession that, after a good year and a half, I still haven't gotten over.

I had almost given up on finding a white shirt to suit me. £30 shirts from Zara, or £100 twill shirts from Thomas Pink [one of my illest-advised purchases ever]. They sit wrong on me. The fabric's too stiff, or badly cut, or the white makes my pale skin look pallid.

But the Chloe sample sale the other week yielded the shirt of my dreams. While the other customers hovered over the handbags [sorry, Chloe fans - I can't get my head around paying £300 for a bag, let along their real shop price], I found something curious: the one item in the room without a label. No washing instructions, not even a size label. Nothing to say it was by Chloe, except that if you peer closely at the buttons, the name's engraved on each. And it was the only one. I briefly pondered whether some crafty customer had furtively swapped their own posh shirt for a posher one earlier in the day. It is the finest - nay, the only - white shirt I have ever enjoyed.



Excuse its rumpled-ness - took this photo at the end of a long day.
It sits just right. It feels just right. I think it's some kind of raw silk, or extremely fine cotton. The shoulders . . . oh, the shoulders! I love it. Mostly, I love it because it is unremarkable - it does what I have always wanted and never managed to get a white shirt to do - its job. There now follows a series of self-indulgent photos of it.





The sleeves . . . the collar . . . truly, I love it. And the slightly dulled off-white colour is much easier to wear than white.



With some Topshop khaki shorts I bought recently too. Nice with grey tights and black suede platform sandals.

Such was my joy that my white-shirt goggles then led me to buy this monstrosity:



It seemed like such a good idea. I daresay Kate Moss thought so too, when she approved its inclusion in her collection. [My first time succumbing to it.] I learned two things then: never buy cheap shirts, and never buy two shirts in one day. We will not dwell on the error: it went back the following day in disgrace.



. . . and I bought it in black instead. Curiously the black version is quite lovely. I learned a third thing: when in doubt, always get it in black.



Last, a sweet jersey minidress. Comfy, great with tights of any colour [black, coloured, or white with flat black ankle boots for super-cuteness], good over t-shirts or shirts, simply cut enough to be able to tuck it into a skirt and wear as a top. I won't hear a word against Topshop.



The white detailing is gorgeous - linen and netting, quilled [remember doing this at school with strips of curly paper?] into flowers. Très jolie.