There are very few things that will get me out of bed on a Sunday morning and straight into a pair of towering heels, but London Fashion Week is one of them.
The capital's four-day long style extravaganza kicks off on Friday, meaning some of the fashion world's most heavenly bodies descend on our capital - and there's no way I'll miss it.
That's if I can actually decide on which pair of heels. "What should I wear?" is a question that plagues me in the days (weeks, if I'm totally honest) running up to LFW.
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When you step onto the cobbles at Somerset House, it is of utmost importance to be totally fabulous. Anything subtle or nondescript equals disapproving stares and the shame of not being asked for a 'street style' snap (everyone gets asked for a 'street style' snap).
Then it's onto the shows. Unless you're a VIP frower (front row goer) queuing is inevitable at most presentations. As is waiting for the show to start - they nearly always run at least 15 to 20 minutes late, longer even than they last. (In Paris, it's 40 minutes minimum.)
All eyes are then on that front row. At the Henry Holland presentation last season, I watched photographers fighting to get a better shot of Alexa Chung, Kelly Osbourne and Pixie Geldof. And I'll never forget the moment Anna Wintour's fur coat brushed past me as she entered the Roksanda Illincic show through the back door - fashion's ever-sunglass-wearing queen bee does not do main entrances.
Dimmed lights and loud, bass-heavy music booming through the speakers signal the beginning of the show and an army of incredibly tall and impossibly skinny teenagers glide past sporting clothes you could never, ever wear to the supermarket.
The audience does not 'ooh' or 'aah' - fashionistas don't dare be so expressive. Instead, a sea of raised iPhones snapping away indicates approval of the designer's latest confections.
I have also learned, after suffering looks of disdain on pulling out a sandwich, that eating is a big no-no. Unless, that is, it's popcorn, the official LFW snack (the show rooms often smell like cinemas).
The LFW experience is exhausting, after four days of running around London in sky-high heels attempting to get to shows on time and then dashing back to the office to document your thoughts before heading out to report on the parties. Afterwards, I am ready to sink into bed and not leave for at least three days.
But I totally love it - bring on Friday.
Report: Alexandra Light
For all the front row action, best collections and most stunning shows, visit fashionweek.hellomagazine.com/autumn-winter-2013-2014
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