PIC from #VFNO
So here’s the deal: I’m not a fashion blogger. Or extreme fashion follower. This is why I take these fashion events with a pinch of salt because really I’d rather talk to someone about a book I’ve read than the type of shoe they prefer.
That said, I do try my best to stay ‘on trend’ and follow what’s cool (which to me means just updating my wardrobe now and again with whatevers on the shelves at Topshop). Thank goodness for Topshop, they have quite a calming effect on my ‘ahh I fell asleep what the hell is even cool anymore??’ moments because I know they’ll always have something affordable and relatively stylish. Enough to get by a party and for someone to say ‘I like your dress’. The only issue with this method is accepting the fact that 400 other girls you pass on the tube will be wearing you’re exact outfit. But it’ll do.
On the subject of fashion, this brings me onto Vogue’s Fashion Night Out which I went along to. I won’t lie, it was really really good fun. What’s not to love about free champagne, well dressed people, very attractive waiters and lots of fabulous clothes. Perfect. Cruising along Bond St with all of the retailers want to invite you in with open arms is just lovely.
Until. We got to Mulberry.
Now, I love Mulberry. As a brand I really do admire it. But, this is not the same as understanding it. I do not understand Mulberry. Let me explain. We got to the flagship store on Bond St and there was a mob. A hot steaming mob of girls who would have chewed off someone’s arm to get in there. They were shoving each other into walls, sneaking in through the sides, taking on 6ft security guards, you name it. There was this incredibly strong sense of “I’M GETTING IN THERE and woe betide anyone that gets in my way.” But, these girls, desperate to break in through the doors of the shop, weren’t really thinking just about the bags/products. They wanted to be IN there, amongst the other Mulberry people soaking up the Mulberry atmosphere. Hardly anyone in there was even looking at the bags. With these brands who sweep people of their feet and make you whole-heartedly buy into it, it seems just as much about status, pride, luxury, proving you’re something etc than it is about the actual products themselves. The bag (for example) tells someone who you are, makes you feel good, confident and like this bag shows you are someone by having it. The bag brings these emotions but if you look deep deep down, it’s not really about the bag at all.
The reason I didn’t understand the pushing and shoving and sheer desperation, is because really all you’re doing is begging for someone to take £800 from you, for essentially, just a leather bag with a tree on it.
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