Supersuper London Fashion Week show

SO HERE'S the deal, I managed to blag a guestlist spot at the SuperSuper magazine party in Kensington tonight, stayed for a bit then rushed home quickly to make a blog about it. The haps:

I arrived at some classy tube station (really, it was classy, the whole place reeked of being well groomed and pound coins) in Kensington and waited for my pal Lee, bandmate, friend, and fellow you'll hear more about should you carry on reading. The moment he blipped his way through those barriers I knew we looked like a pair of utter tossers. He was dressed head to toe in white and I head to toe in black, save for grey stripes on my trousers and spots of white on my shoes.

We made our way toward the venue which had temporarily been turned into Vauxhall Fashion Scout for the LDN fashion week. Jesus christ, we thought, look at that queue. It stretched for miles so we headed on to see if there were any familiar faces nearer the front. Lo and behold, there were. Hopped the barrier, we did.

Not that that mattered. The queue wasn't moving and it hadn't for about forty minutes. We were surrounded by drainpipes and Hoxton Haircuts and it looked like we would be for a while, until we played the press card which pretty much got us in straight away. Hey, I'm press. BLOGS ARE PRESS.

Thanks muchly to the kind people at the door.

Inside we strutted around after the free bar, which was free. Beer was drunk. Lee decided to get us interviewed, videos of which will be going up on certain UNNAMED websites. Until I've seen the footage anyway. We basically didn't know what we were talking about and stuttered on all the questions.

"Who's your favourite designer?"

uhhhhhh...

Then the free bar ran out so we trotted about lifting unmanned drinks until it was time for me to head off. I grabbed a goodie bag and walked back to the station, retardedly querying passersby where the train station was. It was just over there. (There)

Pictures and links and stuff to come, oh loyal readership of none.

Blog over.