Too Much is Just Enough Ladies!

Sophie striking a pose in the first look from this afternoon’s shoot.

Such a lovely day: great team, Sophie was a total pleasure.

Top: : Beyond Retro

Body: American Apparel

Skirt: House of Holland

Shoes: Bordello

Eye shadow and shoe harmony: the all new matchy-matchy...

Jacket: Mishka Vintage

Blouse: Atelier Mayer

Trousers: Topshop

Shoes: Topshop

Fade to Grey: Sophie Sways and Swirls to Donna Disco in Halson Heritage.

Dress: Halston Heritage

Shoes: Terry de Havilland

Dukey Dreamboat: my gorgeous baby boy on set.

So great to be able to combine the madness of styling with the earthiness of mothering, thanks to everyone for being so open-minded, I love days like these…

Fade To Grey

As the mother of a newborn, I’ve appreciated that now is the key time to shape Dukey’s future: from his intellectual to sartorial futures.  Our days veer from light ‘reading’ while punching monkey and parrot on his playmat, to my finger-light taps to his forehead with a smile, saying: ‘lawyer, architect, doctor…’ (turns out I am truly a North London <half> immigrant mother!).   ‘We’ve‘ simultaneously been working out our sartorial style in coherent coalescence (indulge me!): think rock and roll lite, lots of easy jersey pieces, with colour coordinated casual charm.  Let the journey, the joy, the future commence…

Dukey working the sweats on rocker look.

Monkey should be very afraid: Dukey anticipating using his left hook...

Happiness.

True Style Often Displays A Playful Element...

The Sex Pistols were cited as the voice of the underground: daring to swear on national TV, wearing safety pins and gobbing at the audience, they were the 70’s merry pranksters, hell-bent on pogo-ing their anger into our expletive-shocked consciousness: a reaction to the death of hippie free love and the shell-shocked dawn of Thatcherism. But look again, weren’t they styled to within an inch of their Westwood tees and Malcolm McLaren graphics; the World’s End refrain to punk’s politically angry throes: more boy band hype than voice of a generation?  Perhaps their svengali, Malcolm McLaren was a precursor of Simon Cowell; perhaps the Pistols were nothing more than a manufactured by-product of a maestro on the make.

However, the vital difference is that they celebrated their teenage angst: a half-arsed career, spiralled by bad management and indolence, where shock was the common denominator, they didn’t care who realised how disgusted with the state of the nation they were, indeed I’d argue it’s this for which they are remembered more than their music; while the country waved Union Jacks to celebrate the Silver Jubilee, they dared to ask whether this really was a load of old bollocks…

A generation ago, in 1981, while the world was brimming with excitement over the romance of a Royal Wedding, in a parallel to today: Diana, a teenage virginal shy bride, who blushed into her fringe, the fascinating innocent, was held aloft with our expectations and collective gasps of adoration. We all bought into the myth, millions watched the spectacle and believed in the fairy tale. Sadly, like all fairy tales it had its dark flip side. Perhaps if we had been a little less naïve and more astute, we might have woken up from the fantasy earlier, to realise, that like all mythologised stories, there is always a rite of passage, a big bad wolf, a witch and a sacrifice.  A virgin bride, an older, diffident man who loved another, the innocent, yet aristocratic nursery worker who was bound to grow up and ask questions, the institution of royalty; it is only now with hindsight perhaps that we can see what a recipe for disaster this truly was.

While most of us were fluttering flags at street parties, or watching fireworks explode in red, white and blue celebration, there were already the hints of the anger at Thatcherism’s divisiveness to come. That summer saw the Brixton riots: London literally was burning, people who had lived and worked in this country for over a generation, were no longer simply happy to bow down to institutionalised racism, they took to the streets and dared to answer back.

To come were the Miners’ Strike, the Poll Tax Riots, the St Pauls, Toxteth, Hansworth and Tottenham Riots. While it was the era of yuppy, meritocratic materialism: a glossy sense of grab-it-now excess, where we were told that we too could work hard and reap the benefits, that if our prime minister was a shop keeper’s daughter, we too could rise to the top of the pile through hard work and endurance and even buy our own council house at a heavy discount to gain entrance into the exalted realm of the home owning middle classes. There was the insistent drum beat of the angered anti-voice, those who questioned Tebbit and Thatcher’s political framework, the dawn of a time when Britain morphed from manufacturing global force to banking pleasure isle and dared to fight back.

So what has changed in the past 30 years?

Well, again we are about to celebrate the flag flutterings of another royal wedding: this time not to Diana the hunted, but to Kate the middle class, a proto-icon of discreet taste and astute acceptance, who, let’s hope, is more protected, loved and aware of precisely what the contract she has entered into is.

Again, too, we have a Conservative (albeit in coalition) government, again we are in recession and again we really ought to be angry.  Ought to be…

But are we really? Personally I am furious! I am appalled that the cabinet is made up of the over-privileged and under-qualified; I am disgusted that they are closing schools, libraries, crèches, charities, hospitals and public sector jobs; I am shocked that they propose university fees which will prohibit the majority of students from leaving without a debt so epic they will never be able to pay it back. When Winston Churchill was asked to make cuts in the arts after WWII, his response was that the arts were what they fought for and if you cut these, what you had fought for was worthless.

I never thought that there would be a government worse than Thatcher. I loathed her with the venom of my youth: despising her glib, controlled platitudes. Where I too woke up from the seductive dream of the Blairite New Labour’s Cool Britannia, horrified at the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, at least I felt that my sense of Britain was echoed back in the Labour government’s Thatcherism-lite appropriation of social conscience socialism. One where the state of the nation was tied into a world order of equality and democracy, however hard that might be to implement in reality.

Perhaps as one of the last of the meritocratic generations: a product of a grammar school and the first in my family to go to a university, I was a Thatcher’s child. Certainly I grew up believing that I too could and would do whatever I wanted, if I worked hard, possibly doubly hard than those from a more privileged background, who maintained their sense of collar-up entitlement, but against whom I knew I could play career poker and win the game.

The fashion industry I entered as an assistant stylist was a fascinating secret world and I was intoxicated by its perfume. I worked for the Fashion Editor Anna Cockburn, doyenne of a style called ‘grunge’ (but so much more), who challenged the style status quo, with work which allowed the raw, the beautiful and the damned their place; a fragile voice made strong, which meant fresh air, ruffling the feathers of fashion’s establishment (who else would call in Ann Summers which was then mistaken for Helmut Lang by colleagues at a Vogue shoot?), while we partied to Nirvana and rave and believed love was the way to break down the class barrier.

So here we are 30 years on from 1981 in 2011: another Royal Wedding about to entrance us with the dream of a good girl made good princess; another Tory government telling us they are in this too, while George Osborne, the trust fund tax exile, pushes through a budget so draconian, a generation of children will be tied into debt.

While the 1980’s had the Falkland’s War: a battle for a place which sounded Scottish, but which was actually closer to the South Pole; we have wars of so many fronts, that the war on terror seems an endless, expensive sacrifice.

While the 80’s had the poll tax riots, now they are about to make squatting illegal; while students then lost the right to claim benefits, now they are tied into a £60,000+ debt per BA degree; while then we had Section 28, last month Philip Sallon was seriously attacked while walking in Piccadilly, yet curiously there is no CCTV of the event; while then we saw the closure of mines and factories, of any possibility of Britain maintaining an industrial autonomy, now we sit back while the bankers foreclose on our debt, yet issue themselves with bonuses akin to Third World economies.

Am I alone in thinking the world has turned topsy-turvy???

Am I alone in thinking the world needs to wake up??

Am I alone in wondering why people aren’t taking to the streets?

Am I alone in wondering where is the voice of the counter-culture?

Am I alone in thinking that Lady Gaga and her glossy, veneered ilk are not enough of a reaction and wondering where fashion’s politically expletive voice is in all this?

Am I alone in disbelieving that what we have now is worse than what we had?

Am I alone?

Words by Tamara Cincik

Please click on the link:- http://testmag.co.uk/painted-eyes/

Here are some screen grabs from the film for you to enjoy.

Screen grab from a film for Test Mag I styled; shot by Daniel Sannwald.

PAINTED EYES

Director: Daniel Sannwald
Director of Photography: Ruta Balseviciute
Stylist: Tamara Cincik
Model: Elena Sudakova @ FM
Hair: Hiroshi Matsushita using Kiehls
Make Up: Thomas De Kluyver @ D and V Management using Mac Pro
Music: Architeq (Fulgeance Remix) by Birds of Prey
Stylist’s Assistant: Siam Goorwich
Photographer’s Assistants: Moses Power, Christian Roman Thumm
Digital Assistant: Studio Private
Lighting and Location: Studio Private
All fashion by Michael Van Der Ham
Sunglasses by Janz & Cooper, jewellery by Erickson Beamon
Copyright TEST 2011

Purple Magazine, Photographer: Daniel Jackson.

Just chanced upon this from a shoot I styled for Purple Magazine.  I think it looks quite beautiful: inspired by Rackham’s illustrations on my part, it somehow feels rather Rembrant-like with the use of light when I look at it now.  The jacket is by Roksanda, who later made my deliciously sublime wedding dress.

Photographer: Daniel Jackson

Stylist: Tamara Cincik

Make Up: Alex Box

Hair: Rudi Lewis

Arthur Rackham: Alice

Rembrant: self-portrait - see what I mean?!

Mishka Vintage

swathes of lame

Treasures resplendent.

One balmy evening two years ago, driving a back-route from Jeremy’s parents through North London, I had one of those rare stop the car please (!!!) moments, as we chanced on Mishka Vintage’s closed potential.  My only other equally memorable stop the car moment, being somewhere in the Transylvanian mountains of Rumania in 1995, when I saw the multi-coloured fantasia-incarnate of a hand embroidered 100 year old traditional folkloric waistcoat.  I live in a world of clothes: literally surrounded with treasures sourced over the past 20 (eek!) + years, plus the weekly supply of designer options prepped in, edited, shot and returned for editorials.  Ergo, I am not easily impressed: I knew this had that rare alchemic frisson where magic realism meets vintage treasure trove.  The window was filled to brimming with stories: Victorian lace,  deco lingerie, 50′s dresses, 70′s clutches; layer upon layer of beautiful things.

History was my route into fashion: a childhood geeky addiction to history reference books fed into my frequent flyer time traveller daydreams, leading me to start my own vintage collection aged 7, as I felt entranced (and still do) by the stories and skills used to create such pieces.  I would imagine people’s lives when these clothes were made; how their world felt and looked.  Never for me just tired old rags: a Flemish lace collar, a beaded deco bag, or a velvet Victorian jacket, has always felt just as fantastic as the this season’s must-haves I work with on a weekly basis for the fashion styling day-job and with the added bonus of running their own  storyline: one filled with gilt-edged glamour, music hall melodrama, or Hollywood dialogue.

While organising my wedding 2 summers ago, I took the drive out past Crouch End one Saturday, between bouts of buying most of North London’s charity shops stock of vintage china for the wedding, to see what lay inside the promise of this newly found delight.  In my head the owner would be old, eccentric and prone to hoarding.  Imagine my surprise therefore, when I met the smiling glamour that is Lizzie Greene: a woman who manages to combine motherhood, high heels, a predilection for bold lipsticks and an encyclopedic knowledge of British 20th Century fashion design.  ie my kind of woman: someone for whom too much is just enough, while geeking out on quirky sartorial trivia; albeit yes indeed known to hoard, or as I like to term it to my husband: archiving.

Say cheese Jet: Lizzie with her youngest son Jet.

Jet is quite the mini rock star and taken to lying on furs, while making Darth Vadar noises.

Towards the light: Mishka's red mood section.

Sorbetastic treasures.

True blue, baby I love you....

Lounge lizard jackets for Studio 54 moments...

Lizzie has become a dear friend: someone who has lent me the most precious pieces for my editorial shoots, as well as a first port of call for music or advertising jobs, as her clothes often add a necessarily unique flourish.  The skirt I used for Charlotte Church’s recent single cover, was a Mishka purchase.

Charlotte Church: Back to Scratch.

Worn with Rochas, to me the Mishka Vintage Victorian Cape makes the outfit. Taken From my Shoot for Grey AW10; Photographer: Stefano Galuzzi.

The Bat's Brits 2010 bag: a Mishka find.

This afternoon I was there returning pieces lent for 2 of my 3 shoots this week: one for Six Magazine, one with Lily Cole for Corduroy.  However, if you were my styling client and looking for that one-off party dress, wow factor wedding gown, or retro-referenced Annie Hall meets Celine this season piece, Mishka Vintage would be on our list of must-dos.  When you do get there, take the time: this is not a 5 minute Primark collision course.  Chat to Lizzie, allow yourself to relax into remembering/experiencing what boutique-style one on one smiling service feels like; then see what magic you walk away with.

Mishka Vintage Clothing

Address:

212a, Middle Lane

Postcode:

N8 7LA

City/Town:

London (London)

Main phone:

020 8341 3853

Out take from my Please! Issue 9 shoot with Emma Hardy.

Sometimes it is the shot which makes my hairs stand up on end with dewy-eyed stylistic excitement, which doesn’t fit with an art director’s take on a story. The above image is a case in point.

I love the way it takes the Japan theme to it’s Siouxsie pinktastic punk conclusion.  Shot in my flat, against my Wapping Project-inspired neon strip light.

Team Credits:-

Photographer: Emma Hardy

Stylist: Me!!!

Make-Up: Anita Keeling

Hair: Kenna

Clothes Credits:-

Kimono and Cami Knickers: Mishka Vintage

Body: American Apparel

Bangle: Erickson Beamon

Shoes: Christian Louboutin

Obi: Angel Jackson

PVC: Borowicks

Working out wardrobe dilemmas is how I earn my daily bread, nothing sartorial fazes me: not a client with weekly weight shifts, a 14 page shoot to prep, style and turnaround in 24 hours, or even the edit of a half-made collection for a show that week.  Not one for wardrobe malfunctions, I long ago worked out what suits my silhouette and style and loved nothing more than dressing up box playtime, either for a shoot, or my own personal catwalk of life.  However, when Dr Mistry the ayurvedic doctor miracle worker, whose amazingly simple diet and health plan helped me to conceive, relayed to me in his own uniquely direct terms that a) I would be putting on weight, so out would have to go my ritualised routine of salad, salad, salad, b) no more heels through the pregnancy, c) no stress, certainly no more Tracy Anderson cardio work outs and d) nothing tight on belly; this was a styling challenge, even I was scared of.  After years of training myself thin, the mental adaptation to embracing the curves and loving the bump has been a journey: both sartorial and emotional.  Now 7 1/2 months into my pregnancy, my much loved and anticipated baby boy is due in April, meanwhile my body and body-image have had to shift a few gears: no longer am I  able to rely on the small waist/D cup cleavage/long legs I took for granted, yet never thought good enough.  D has grown to F cup and counting, my legs are not as sylph-like as they were when Tracyed to the max, weight seems to be being stored haunch-like, to see me through the next stage, nice.   Translation: there is no waist, the bump is out and proud, a force to be reckoned with, a love overwhelming.

Onto my dilemma: how to dress through London Fashion Week?  I’ve decided against a Eurostar trip to Paris for the shows there, as though they are the climax of and inspiration for the season ahead, and while Paris might be labelled the city of romance and the historical locale of the troubadour, in terms of chivalry, London’s fashion show security and prs win the good manners battle hands down.  Sometimes at the Paris shows, security seem to mistake a bunch of high heeled fashion editors for kettled student protestors: I have seen pushing, screaming, elbows and worse flying, hilariously stressful and ridiculously anti-chevalier.  Better this season then, to glean my showtime inspiration from style.com and enjoy the shows here, where I was treated like a queen.

Having bitten the pregnancy bullet and acquiesed to Dr Mistry’s no heels ruling, I months ago packed away my gorgeous collection of heels: this is a woman whose runabout shoe had a 4 inch heel, that was tough, there was a tear.  As someone who loathes change, it was as much for the joy of surrendering to this overwhelming new love, as realising I am currently a protector, a vehicle for my baby’s wellbeing, combined with the dread of becoming a drudge…  Deciding to embrace the dictate, I bought several pairs of practical flat boots and shoes and averted my eyes anytime I saw something gorgeously delectable in the sales. Solutions to how to dress the bump and burgeoning bustline?  ’60′s style Empire line dresses seemed to work for me, as they swing away from the body, grazing the curves.  I bought three dresses from the lovely Lizzie at Mishka, my favourite vintage shop in North London, had two shortened, so they were less burqa-like and showed a bit of leg – to off-set the higher necklines – which somehow feels more appropriate now with my lack of cinched waist-action.   Etsy and Ebay also sourced some lovely gems: one folkloric in red ’70s patterned cotton, one more like the traditional Turkish school-uniform with its crisp white collar and ribbon tie on a simple black woollen dress, which as a child I had always admired when my cousins wore theirs’ to school in the old country.

Below are some images taken through London Fashion Week and a dress down Sunday, which I hope will show how I propose to combine style with substance, comfort with joy.

Dress: Etsy, Jacket: Philip Lim, Hat: Hat Shop in Beyoglu, Istanbul

Head Dress: Piers Atkinson, Jacket: Aquascutum, Shawl, Margiela, Belt: Dries van Noten, Dress: vintage Roland Klein

Stylist's little tip: bring the 'waist' higher to Empire Line proportions, add a suit-style jacket to tailor the silhouette, shirt dresses hide and glide over bumps forgivingly, gold for glory, why try to hide it?!? - aka the bump is out and proud!

Dress: Ebay, Owl Pendant: Portobello Market, Head Dress: Ashley Isham Archive

Boots: vintage Charles Jourdan, Tights: Jonathan Aston, Shawl: Tallulah and Hope. Shawls: long since a staple of my wardrobe, currently invaluable for a dash of on-trend swish!

Cloche Hat: Lock and Co, Dress: Margiela, Jacket: Aquascutum, Belt: Dries Van Noten, Boots: Black Truffle. This dress has been a much-loved, expensive Paris purchase bought many seasons ago, the day I learnt that buying well meant buying to last. I love the way it hugs, without groping, my (ever-changing) shape: part nun-like, eternally chic.

Hat: Stephen Jones, Cape: Wimbledon Car Boot Sale, Leggings: Oasis, Socks: Topshop, Boots: Native American Store,west Village, NYC.

Kimono Top: Topshop, Leather Waistcoat: Beyond Retro.

Swing Coat: Mishka, Tights: Wolford, Bag: Angel Jackson, Hat: Lock and Co, Boots: Black Truffle.

1930's Lace Dress: Mishka, Jacket: Charity Shop in Knightsbridge, Hat: Browns Focus, Bag: Angel Jackson.

Dress Down Sunday, at the Heath. Hat: Bora Aksu, Sunglasses: Yves St Laurent, Jacket: Isabel Marant, Army Shirt, Squadron, Jogger-style Top: Matthew Williamson, Shalwa Joggers and Top Just Seen Underneath: Topshop, and yes those are Uggs, blame it on the bump!..

Ok ladies, here my bump(s) are displayed out and proud.  My self-taught top tips for trying to combine looking stylish with an ever-growing pregnancy girth?

1) We are pregnant, not invisible: learn to love the bump and be as adventurous, or discreet as you feel that day; personally I loved my glory in gold look.

2) Shirt dresses, which can be cinched in at a different point of the body than the waist (impossible to get a belt around now anyway!), can work in a multiple of ways: with leggings loose, or Empire Line as I wear mine.

3) Long Dresses: personally I prefer the Margiela/nun-like silhouette: less 70′s maxi, which I love, but with wedgie heels or flip-flops, not flats and as heels are banned, unless the sun shines brightly between now and April 28th , I think are best left for high summer.  The more figure-gliding long length works wonderfully with flat boots and brogues for winter-spring fashionability.

4) Jackets: A smart suit-style jacket over the more figure-hugging looks, I feel works well  as it adds a structured shape and means not everything is on show, bulging bumptastic.  Shoulders and arms are the last to ‘splurge’, the added bonus of which is that jackets and coats worn undone still fit and make you feel less of a lump, still you!..

5) Swing Coats: A 1960′s classic, which as the description says, swings gloriously.  Mine made me feel rather fabulously swishy, especially in such a lovely colour on a grey London day.  I wore this to a wedding and a christening last summer, ie pre-pregnancy, and felt rather delicious; worn at LFW, it made me still feel part of the tribe.

6) Empire Line/1960′s silhouettes: I feel if your legs are up to it, raising the hem and necklines slightly means everything is less obvious/more refined.  This shape is perfect for pregnancy, while also being less in your face and sexed out.

7) Mens’ trousers, worn with braces and brogues, perhaps with a t’shirt or a loose blouse, would look amazing on a pregnant woman: pushing the new androgyny, while clearly not(!), has something poetic in it’s visual charm.

Indulge in draping, especially if this is a hide the bulge day.  Grecian-style drapes of fabric working their magic  to accentuate the areas we feel most confident about, is bound to make us feel more beautiful.  If your legs and arms look as slim as you ever did, dresses or tops which drape will draw attention to these and away from where you feel less confident.

9) As your girth grows wear mini jersey dresses as you once would a t’shirt.  Sounds really simplistic, but who wants their kidneys and belly on display in the late winter chill?  Today I’m wearing a Topshop mini dress under another (now) shorter top which currently otherwise would leave a belly-gap.

10) Shalwa trousers: I have always loved these: they remind me of visits to my father’s village in southern Turkey.  I have several pairs, from pre-pregnancy, both high fashion and high street; these work wonderfully now, with the waist band worn under the belly, thereby adhering to Dr Mistry’s nothing tight on the belly dictate!  Plus they are forgiving of ‘haunch legs’, as they come in at the knee, where all is still as it was!..

11) Kimonos: the drama of their big arm action and glamour, cuts a swathe over the body: worn either as an open jacket over layers, or tied Empire Line-style below the bust looks fabulously confident on a pregnant woman.  I love my kimono-style Topshop top, for how the hugeness of its arms, and how it hits below my thighs, off-sets the burgeoning of my bump!

I love owls, I love hats, I love sparkles, I love lace.  I have a penchant for grey and liking for pink. While of course I am and have changed through this pregnancy: no more and never again number one on my priority list, I don’t see why women have to be reduced to the hell that is the majority of maternity wear.  With some acceptance and adaptations, isn’t it more fun to play a new game of dress-up and celebrate the glamour of the next stage?

www.topshop.com

http://www.lockhatters.co.uk/

http://www.maisonmartinmargiela.com/

http://www.blacktruffle.co.uk/

http://www.stephenjonesmillinery.com/

http://www.brownsfashion.com/cm/brownsfocus.htm

www.ebay.co.uk

www.etsy.com

http://www.yell.com/b/Mishka+Vintage+Clothing-Clothes+Shops+_+Specialist-London-N87LA-2295344/index.html

http://www.houseofmistry.com/

Last week I was invited to be the first stylist to come in and host a mentoring session at London College of Fashion’s Centre for Sustainable Fashion.  Woo-hoo!

Alex McIntosh, who works there, agreed with me in our chats beforehand, that my take on sustainable fashion: ie that it needs to be as good as its unethical competitors, while maintaining it’s credentials, is the right way to see sustainable fashion’s future and this then was the starting block for my lecture.  Our opinion was endorsed coincidentally (great minds think alike!), by New Gen winner, designer Christopher Raeburn, at the Esthetica talk hosted the day before at Somerset House.  (http://www.christopherraeburn.co.uk/ )

Where compared to last season it was a much stronger selection of pieces from eco-fashion designers, on the whole much more likely to sell and get shot by stylists – which after all it surely what it’s all about!..  Was great to see old friends, such as Noki’s JJ, there with his NHS collection, as well as my girl Jessie Brinton take part in the talk.  For me the gold star goes to  Nina Dolcetti.  Her taupe boots were glorious and this season’s ‘little sweets’ collection of shoes, really show how good design and ethical business can be viable.  www.ninadolcetti.com

So the next day, daunted by the prospect of quickfire students and nervous to the core, I entered the pleasure dome LCF lecture hall and hosted the best morning of work I have enjoyed in a long time (goes to show that it is worth facing one’s nerves sometimes!).  There had been a phenomenal response, something like 30 designers came to the event.  So after a quick breakdown of my own career – which I tried to glide past(!), I discussed celebrity endorsement and the importance of visual imagery and consistent iconography for brand identity: breaking this down from the highest of high end, such as Chanel and Dior, how it has worked with my celebrity clients and then how this translates to these designers own developing labels.  Fascinating, when you break down marketing a strategy and see how this effects each of us: from me the stylist, through to designer, advertising exec, art director, consumer et al, it is really simply fascinating.  Especially when you translate that to the power of good, creating innovative sustainable fashion: ie guilt-free consumerism, which doesn’t rest on it’s eco-credentials, but really is a product of good design.

I worked through the designer’s own collections: their lookbook imagery and concepts; spending time with quick-fire responses to their individual strategy and vision for their company, mentoring each of them with different questions, answers and responses to their work, as each is a different designer, with a different style/collection/aim/idea of who their brand is aimed at.  I came back to them with game-plans, ideas and I hope some good advice!  I loved it, I really realised how much I enjoyed mentoring them, when I realised 4 hours had gone by and I would happily have stayed for 4 more!

For links to some of these designers’ work, please check out:-

www.isyandpeeps.com

www.sarahkerry.co.uk

www.coldershoulder.com

www.olgaolsson.com

www.ousiderfashion.com

www.markgiusti.com

www.lowe-holder.com

Mark Giusti

Michelle Lowe-Holder.