Enchanted. Like walking into a department store at early doors. A daydream of discovery and an atmosphere of tense possibility. Surrounded by beautiful items, colours, styles, patterns, sounds. The chance to lose ourselves for the briefest moment only to emerge reinvented, reinvigorated, rediscovered.
It is said that fashion evolved when the easy charm and exquisite tailoring of Savile Row clashed with the French solidarity of design and sense of proportion. Over time, many have strayed from these origins to chase the bright lights of the high street and the transience of seasonal trends. But for the damned and the disenchanted, there’s still one place where they can go.
A Saturday morning on the streets of Shoreditch. The bustle and chatter, a blur of threads, a colourful rabble of trend setters, hustlers, hipsters, fashionistas, rockers, and rebels. Between the macchiatos, the music, the musings, and the beating pulse of graffitied brickwork, there’s a change in the air. A movement of independent labels bringing fashion back to London.
Sometime around midnight. A melody of car light and music, a circle of streetlights, the kind of night when anything can happen. Break all the rules and dance to the edge of dawn. London nights.