|Mark and a dog called Bastard in the Child of the Jago show S/S2010|
So we parked up outside an unprepossessing unit on the outskirts of town where children ran wild in the streets and stray dogs scrapped over a box of bones and followed Barnzley into a warehouse. It was hard to walk with bags over our heads and I stumbled as we went through the door. It had been quite hard to drive too, come to that. Now inside we were revealed by the master of Terrorist clothing (Child collections often take inspiration from those hors de la loi) to find ourselves blinkingly swept up in the good humour of the greeting that awaited him. Barnzley is, after all, a man unacquainted with indifferent reaction. Philip and Martin here buy up surplus fabrics from British mills which already tells you that the stock will be of supremely pukkah quality and normally super pricey. When Prada / Gucci / whoever come to collect their order they sometimes shriek "Porco Dio mama mia Bolognese! There is a snag of .0000001mm only visible under a microscope, we cannot possibly take it!" Which is when these gentlemen appear as if by magic in long capes and wide brimmed hats to off to take it off the mill owners' hands. It's all quite Robin Hood really - the mill owners' children get to eat after all while the fashion students of the nation and penny-wise start-ups like ourselves get to work with fabulous fabric. That's the kind of win-win scenario I'm talkin' about.
|Flirty Philip the People's Pimpernel, and the double trouble duo Wezley and Barnzley|
|Philip and Martin|
"Can I have a sample?"
Fair do's haha.
If you would like to know more about this cloth of gold consult here:
The advice runs "don't wring out or agitate too much" - mmm, same can be applied to me too.
Ya wanna see? Sure you do:
|The Queen of Cloth and the thumb of someone who cannot be identified in order to safeguard supplies|
|A still sumptuous silk and cashmere mix|
|One of my favourites that day|
|The label we want to see|
|The more I look at this the more disturbing I find it|
The price of a regular display mannequin is around £500 - if you're passing a shop window see how many there are in it and do the maths. I even rang up the daddy of all dummies, Stockman in New York - http://www.siegel-stockman.com/men.html - and had a lovely chat with Lucia there who had one for a Canadian client uncollected I could take but it was $585 and duh, in New York (they have a place in France but no outlet in the UK). So we walked into Spitalfields market and the first thing we saw was a bashed up lady torso for which the seller wanted daft money. We made our excuses and wandered on across the covered square. On the far side was another lady of Whitechapel waiting for us in a state of louche undress, but in perfect nick and the English "Stockman" no less - http://dspace.dial.pipex.com/kennett.lindsell/
Although we want to do ladies wear in a few seasons we are focussing on the boys while we get rolling. We resisted her solicitations and mooched on to find John of Portobello on Parade doing his East End stint. Mark got an outrider's cape from him that he's worn every day since and as attracted not just admiring glances but enquires from the yout' of Stockwell. Then we succumbed, returned to Patrick's stall and paid a mutually agreed amount of folding money for Lillie (as she will henceforth be known).
Mr Wesley carried her over his shoulder, much the way he does me on occasion, and made it all work by figuring that although she is a size 16, there are a lot of man boobs around these days and so Lillie will be our cross-dressing dummy.
Tired as we were, we thought we'd pop in to visit Josephine, our friend with a stall at the Battersea Antiques Fair - http://www.josephineryanantiques.co.uk/ - and rang to say we were on our way. We mentioned our find and she exclaimed that someone had ten tailors' dummies no less on a stall in the marquee. We tore across the city, flinging Lillie about in the back as she wouldn't wear a belt, and screeched to a halt in the park. We pelted up to Jo's stall, and she lead us round an aisle where we saw a whole group indeed, but every last one of them had lady bumps (except for the children's sizes):