Friends in high places
by Nick Foulkes18 January 2010
I am not a huge enthusiast when it comes to fashion weeks, however I do make an exception for my friends, so when Gino Macaluso proprietor of Girard Perregaux asked me to join him in Milan for the Zegna fashion show, I felt it would be churlish to decline. Gino has just made 100 watches for the Zegna family to celebrate the Italian apparel and cloth brand’s centenary and was curious to see what the fashion world looked like up close, so he decided to attend the Milan men’s shows.
The whole thing kicked off with a congenial dinner in some Palazzo or other, so stuffed with artworks that I risked an attack of Stendhalism. In particular it was the porcelain that had me hyperventilating (ever since I was invited to write the official history of Meissen I have been obsessed by the stuff). Indeed there was such an abundance of fine Saxon porcelain that I found myself excitedly turning over every piece of china that came my way, or indeed came the way of my dinner companions, in order to see the small pair of crossed Electoral Swords beneath – a little vulgar and obvious I know but sometimes I can’t help myself.
By contrast the watch is of course, in the true Gino style, a model of discretion and excellent taste. The morning after, I attended the Zegna fashion show and it was here that I learned of the power of the blogger. Apparently some of the most revered fashion commentators are children who know little about clothes but make up for this by remaining closeted in their bedrooms, pumping out their observations and as a blogger myself I found that I was seated in the front row, seat A 4 if you must know…well actually I think it had less to do with my online persona and owed rather more to my friendship with Gino who was sitting to my left. Any way I began to feel so self-important that I was obliged to pull out my Smythson diary, turn to the back pages and pretend to be making sage notes on the depth of vents and the narrowness of trouser legs.
My favourite part of the show was a black and white film from the twenties or thirties showing joyful Zegna staff at work and at rest. And then after a brief minute spent paying my respects to the fashion royalty gathered there; Suzy Menkes and Michael Roberts; I made my way outside.
As I was getting into my car, I was hailed by none other than my colleague, joint Clay Pigeon champ and scion of the great equestrian painting dynasty, Tom Stubbs. He was escorting the fragrant Esther Quek around the shows and was kind enough to compliment me on my cockney hairstyle, which I think is the highest praise he can bestow. (All I had done to my hair was to forget to have Brent Pankhurst run his scissors over it, and by chance I find myself in the vanguard of fashion). And then, well connected as Tom is, he introduced me to none other than the Sartorialist himself, the man who founded a fortune beyond the dreams of avarice on posting pictures of the Rubinacci clan onto Her Majesty’s Internet – I was particularly struck that in spite of his Croesan riches Mr S was still busy snapping away with his camera at interestingly dressed people on the street. The picture that Tom took of me standing with the Sartorialist will, in time, become a valued heirloom.
What with all the excitement, I only just made it to Linate in time for the flight home to change the contents of my suitcase and then turn round and head back to my second home, Terminal Five, for the flight to Geneva and the joys of the annual SIHH watch fair.
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