Evening fell on the night of the big show.
Lanvin is the oldest of all the fashion houses and we were beyond honoured to have been invited, and almost beside myself to be able to wear some of the pieces!
I went for a real show stopper.
(Borrowing our driver’s headlights to get the shot!)
We raced through the busy streets of Paris towards L’Ecole des Beaux Arts.
As we got closer the streets buzzed with people, crowds heaved outside the gates, hoping to catch glimpses (or perhaps selfies) of the guests attending.
We drove through the crowds and into the gates, giving us our first glimpse of the incredible venue.
We emerged from the blacked out car and I was thrust infront of the photographers.
And we made our way inside.
Beams of light illuminated the space and some of the exquisite detailing around the hall.
Fashionistas mingled, laughed, peered around at the crowd and space.
We sipped on fresh peach bellinis and beamed every time we ran into a friendly face amongst the madness.
Keen to get out of the way, we took our seats behind the ever-glamorous owner Shaw-Lan Wang.
Everyone from Anna Wintour to Jared Leto popped over to say hello and wish her well.
Obviously as a self confessed people watching fanatic, I was in heaven!
Soon the runway cleared, Kanye and a very blonde Kim finally arrived and took their seats, the lights dimmed, the spotlights peered down, music thumped through the room and the show began.
Alber has been creative director since 2001, but this season he really outdid himself.
Sharp, equestrian looks led onto fringing, silks, leathers and free-loving-haute-bohemian shearling and braided belts.
Watch my finalé video if you want to get an idea of the garments’ spell binding movement.
After the final model had stomped into darkness, Alber emerged.
Applause exploded from the crowd.
Despite his shyness he walked half of the runway, gave a bow as we whooped and clapped.
He scuttled backstage and the room emptied almost immediately.
Fashionistas raced off to parties, editors to meetings and photographers chased the c’lebs.
We jumped back into the car and popped back to L’Avenue (where we’d started the day!) to finish it in style.
I had snails, followed by the Crying Tiger; steak in a fragrant Asian sauce.
But stole a few bites of Angela’s tom yam chilli seabass.
And R’s steak tartar.
We sat and chatted for hours.
Made our way through far too much champagne and I was the only one who got excited every time the Eiffel Tower began to sparkle.
I watched through the window, relishing the combination of a glass of sparkles and the unforgettable view.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt quite so incredibly… lucky.
Paris, you have stolen my heart. Again.
