Beautiful Japanese selvedge denim
runs like a backbone through a
remarkably coherent collection of light,
airy blues and greens and creams, all
sweet Mother Earth colours accented
with leafy prints which make a man
wish he had his own desert island and
about six months alone on it to do
nothing but think and breathe and
possibly drink cocktails with Lauren,
the label’s almost absurdly attractive
press officer, who talks me through the
collection with a casual grace and
subtlety which would have seemed
bizarre were it not for the equally
transfixing view over the Thames from
the second storey glass wall at the rear
of 180 The Strand. Dressed with palm
fronds and bathed in the soft earlysummer glow of a hopeful June, this
particular corner of the otherwise
pretty monstrous concrete edifice
which served as venue and hub for the
weekend’s congregation feels special,
apt, confident and self-assured, allknowing and all-seeing, but basically
pretty calm and friendly and accessible
at the same time. Like the kid you
looked up to at school because, despite
being enormously popular, they were
also appallingly nice.
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