The Marie Claire team met readers, writers, stylists and editors at the How to Get into Magazines event as part of the Inspire & Mentor campaign. Read the editors’ advice on getting into magazines, here.
The event celebrated leading figures from the worlds of fashion, beauty, business, politics and science and marked the launch of this year’s campaign, offering readers the chance to be mentored by 25 of the most influential women in Britain (see the mentors in action, here).
The launch was also a perfect excuse to invite along some slebs, including the utterly beautiful Douglas Booth, Jessie Metcalf, Jessica Lowndes, Ricky Gervais, Mollie King and David Gandy (remind me never to stand next to the offensively beautiful ever again). Watch our interviews here – and apologies in advance for being a bit lippy to Ricky Gervais.
More apologies for the silence of late. New York, London, Milan and now Paris for fashion weeks mean that I never know where I am or quite what day of the week it is. My time is now purely meted out in pre or post Versace/Tina Turner spotting/opportunities to have a hotel bath (more of which later).
Until next time, I’ll be at marieclaire.co.uk. Or in a bath. Somewhere.
It could be the jet lag. It could be the obscene amount of coffee that gets drunk at these things. It could even a symptom of the BlackBerry generation, but my short-term memory is shot at the moment. And I’m not the only one.
Speaking to fellow journalists and general hangers-on at this year’s New York Fashion Week, it seemed that many of us were struggling to remember what we’d seen an hour ago – let alone what we were all supposed to be wearing this time last year. One girl actually admitted Googling her own articles to recall what was on the runways and another confessed to ‘winging it’ and hoping she didn’t use the same simile twice.
London Fashion Week kicks off tomorrow and there’ll be a whole new set of trends and temptations. You can already spot the fashion crowd if you look carefully enough on the streets of the capital. The four-inch wedge boots? Those are the ones. The sunglasses in February? Guilty as charged. The folk clutching several cardboard masterpieces promising still greater fashion magic in the tents and venues around the city? That’s them.
Much of what we see may not end up on the high street come September. But for the odd, spectacular, dose of of sartorial serotonin, it’s all worthwhile. I’ll keep you posted.
Having only just cottoned on to the fact that it is the footballer Neil Young who has recently passed away and not the gravel-voiced Harvest Moon crooner, I’ve been deluged with well-meaning music biz updates of late on Twitter and through the blog (thanks guys… *blushes profusely*). So far this week I have gleaned that the White Stripes have split up, Blue are representing the UK for Eurovision and Same Difference (‘Who?’ Exactly…) are releasing an album. It’s all riveting stuff, but can I find a band to play at my wedding? Can I heck. Let’s see how the Blue boys get on at Dusseldorf in May. It may be that I can book them at knock-down rates come August. “All rise…”
It is a truth universally acknowledged that when a girl gets a new job and a shiny ring on her left hand all in the space of a month, normal play is suspended.
Apologies for not having posted much of late but keep an eye on Marie Claire for everything a bride-to-be might need on pulling it all together.