As another London Fashion Week draws to a close, there’s this sweet, sad, relieved end-of-school-term feeling in the air. I’m heading over to Somerset House now for Man Day as it’s been called (I used to call it Boy’s Day) but basically, it’s time to pack up and literally take things out of my locker in the photographer’s press room, and hang out with the cat and sift through the photos and the happy memories.

It’s so easy to get caught up in the ‘why did my invite not arrive in the post/don’t they know who I am’ mentality, and there is definitely a feeling all the time like you’re rushing to catch a plane – because once those doors shut you cannot get into a show – except you’re catching a plane over and over and the flights only last a few minutes, then you can’t find your friends and the queue for the unisex loo is going waaaay too slowly, but at the end of the day, really, we can’t take these things too seriously.

It’s only fashion, it’s not like we’re saving lives here, and after all, fashion is meant to be FUN.