Intro To Fashion Week

Last year was technically my first, but since all I actually attended were some private shows, this really is my first Fashion Week experience. You hop out of the taxi and the usually stark concrete concourse of the Overseas Passenger Terminal is sleek, tented in black and white and buzzing with high heeled boots and oversized sunglasses.

My goodie tote has the latest Marie Claire (can't believe I used to like this mag), MAC Lipgelee, hair wax strips, foot cushions, Ferrero Rochers and a 2-4-1 at Wagamama's. I also picked up a copy of the new The Daily Mini which is cute (if you want one, let me know).

There's a bit of confusion in the organising (ticket allocation, waiting around etc) but that's to be expected, and staff are friendly and the space looks really good. Free Red Bull and Heaven icecream, gotta love that.

I've always loved people-watching, and where could it be better than Fashion Week, especially since being bitten by The Sartorialist bug - so far no one has wowed me, apart from a woman wearing a gorgeous frill-fronted white cotton jacket who disappeared before I could swallow my pride and ask her about it. But my hopes, and Sony Ericsson 800i camera phone, are high and waiting.