It’s JW Anderson's time in Russell Square, where press and celebs alike are shelved into an amphitheatre setting. Two worlds collide on the FROW and Anna Wintour is practically sat on Sonny Hall’s lap. Billy Porter’s already in his second outfit change of the day and Darren Gerrish is running around like a headless chicken.
5 minutes later and the show begins: Christina Aguilera’s arrived and I can’t help but wonder how on earth she’s managed it given the international superstar was up until god knows when performing at the Gareth Pugh x Virgin party last night. The clothes are the usual brand of nomadic chic we’ve come to expect from an Anderson collection, though a very mature, muted colour palette is offset by bejeweled harnesses that wrap around the model’s chests like sculptural bralets. Pastel knit mini dresses and lamé jackets are met with the ebb and flow of camera flashes; finely tailored tuxedos are paired with hareem pants and bags on bags on bags.
Subtle styling tricks recur throughout the collection, trouser hems are neatly tucked into chunky sandals and there are a handful of amazing deconstructed bar jackets that are bound to fly off the e-shelves. What’s black and red and chic all-over? A sheer full-length dress perfect for the beach - or the club - and my face what with the SS20 eye bags im carrying.
The show ends as discreetly as it begins and I’m left refreshed though somewhat crushed in the crowd gathering at the door.
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