Fashion... turn to the left

Posted by Isabel Dexter at 13:35 on 24 Jun 2009

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So apparently in Paris there is nothing worse than going out with les cheveux sales (dirty hair). You should have seen the looks I got in Monoprix when trying to buy dry shampoo. But in London, well, dirty hair is practically a fashion accessory along with an overstuffed Balenciaga and Topshop fringed suede ankle boots. So imagine my surprise when I popped back to London for a few days to catch up with La Blonde (my best friend who happens to be French) to find the fashion-forward foyer of The Cumberland Hotel awash with glossy-haired Brit girls who looked like they'd walked straight out of the lifts at Vogue House.

This hair haute couture crowd were there for the Aimee McWilliams exhibition, which runs until the end of this month. Aimee is one of the most exciting young designers around at the moment and turned down jobs at John Galliano and Cavalli to set up her own label. Aimee has created a 'capsule haute couture' collection inspired by the Guoman collection of London landmark hotels and well, perhaps I'm not so Parisienne after all because me and La  Blonde went into a frenzy of anglophilia at the gorgeous bespoke designs, such as The Tower where Aimee mimics the tinted mirror panelling and geometric staircases of this London hotel with multiple layers of French silk chiffon over a sculptured dress. It has that gorgeous tailored-yet-feminine aspect with multiple tones. Similarly The Cumberland dress picked up on the futuristic colour-changing lighting used in the lobby by layering purples and golds. Aimee added sequin panels charged with black feathers for the sort of dress I might sell my soul to get to wear. On a more altruistic note, the designs will be auctioned for charity later this year. Don't you just love fashion with heart?

Next it was time for a few bottles of wine in the classic Gary Rhodes brasserie restaurant in which we discussed the finer points of that all-essential (and non-superficial) French boys versus English boys debate. (La Blonde has an obsession with English boys, I'm working on curbing my lust for The French). Most importantly I got to talk loud and be stupidly English afterwards at the Carbon Bar (ie. playing drinking games, talking about sex, dancing around my bar stool. Anglaise? Moi? Vraiment? ) Was like a massive dose of oxygen after being stuck in a vacuum of judgement for the last few months. And you know what, I didn't even care about my dirty hair.

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