Loose Lips does London Fashion Week

by Marko Domazet

Givenchy! Gaultier! Names, names, names! That’s right boys and girls – London fashion week was in town and Loose Lips was invited to come and play. Seeing as we were fashion-week virgins who barely knew there was such a thing as a leg-of-lamb sleeve (ask Jeremy Paxman), we felt very excited and slightly apprehensive about the experience. One wonders how to walk, whom to talk to and just how much pocket money is needed to pull together a few decent outfits.

Photographer in scary demin boiler suit

Seeing as pretty much everyone is into fashion that rhymes these days, we’ve decided to make our first ever coverage a memorable one, so here goes:

A week of fashion
One could say the hero of this poem is a wannabe bitch
who begged and pleaded
for the chance to inspect a couture stitch.

He made an application, his dream began to grow
Waiting for the outcome
on his face was beginning to show.
Finally, the arrival of the coveted pass,
Oy Vey!
All the excitement turned into gas.

Names like Dior, Lagerfeld and even Givenchy
Made him hope the experience would be raunchy.
That it would not only provide hours of fun
But hopefully end with a pharmacy run.

Daydream Nation prepare for their road trip

Daydream Nation invited him to their show
Oh, our hero, he was so full of glow.
He arrived, the wet Connies smelling oh so rank
For a catwalk performance
His beloved friend would describe as a load of wank.

Channeling the animals

Still, the evening brought a tear to his face
as Daydream Nation made him think of Ace of Base.
The accordion that was played
Its sweet, distinct sound,
the lovely models
and the fabrics in which they were bound.
You’ll be glad to know,
Out hero found the exhibition a treat as well,
Hell, seeing all the fashionistas
Sort of made his trousers swell.

I think she’s jealous of the other girl’s outfit

Gary Harvey and his recycled fashion,
Who doesn’t like a designer with compassion?
Henry Holland, our rhyming friend
Pimped his fun t-shirts
And cemented a trend.
The fabulous fashion of Junky Styling, S Sung
and the bags of Miss Gaffney too
made it rather difficult to bid adieu.

One hopes to return for the next one
For more fabulous fashion
And possibly action up the bum.
For now though, I think my rhyming should cease
As it’s as enjoyable and fashionable
as a stretchy piece of fleece.

The End