Fashion Galore (a blow by blow account)

Before Lady Gaga was running around wearing the inside of animals on her arms and dressing up in all her crazy fabulousness there was another lady that represented fashion's oddities and that was Isabella Blow.  More of a muse and finder of fashion legends than a follower Blow is, arguably, most well known for discovering/pushing for Alexander McQueen to be the fashion world's darling. 

Famous for wearing a plethora of Philip Tracey hats, many of her garments and gowns are now displayed in Fashion Galore! an exhibition at Somerset House (showing from now until March 2nd 2014).  Here are 6 other things you may or may not know regarding the Lady Blow:

1. She can trace her genealogy back to the 12th Century - a perk of being posh no doubt!
2. Not only was she a staunch supporter of McQueen she also discovered Stella Tenant and Plum Sykes.  
   
   
   
   
3. An elderly member of her family pretty much blew the entirety of their fortune in the early 1900's (but posh people have a habit of making back those lost millions don't they?)
4. She once wore a 4 inch silver spiked ankle cuff to a party, evidently this blooded up the other leg something akin to the original Cinderella storyline.  While there is some evidence that she couldn't pop her lipstick on straight to save her life, her dedication to her fashion choices cannot be doubted.
5. She was quoted as saying 'Hats are like anti-depressants, no one needs to be popping pills' which is odd seeing as she had more than the mad hatter but still managed to killed herself in 2007.  
6. Sadly her friend Alexander McQueen once said he could never comment suicide after seeing how much pain her untimely death had caused.

You have to wonder if these two flawed but fabulously creative people are together having a right giggle up in heaven right now.

Images taken from Somerset House  and my secret photographer!

Your New Favourite Band

I Strip For Couples.  This is not a recreational preference nor a change in  career,  this is the name of your new favourite band.  As I'll admit to being friendly with number of the artists that were to take to Junction 2's stage that Tuesday night in October, I'll refrain from naming names.  This is in no part due to the fact that I can only remember the christian reference of half the people there and much more to do with wanting the music to speak for itself, or something.

Mixing several genres of music has obviously been done before and I went along to see ISFC with a tired, washed out hope it doesn't over-run cos I really want to get home on time attitude.  I almost didn't go at all,  however what followed over the next hour or so was the sort of musical ingenuity I honestly can't remember experiencing before, it was like going to my first ever gig.

A combination of classical, MC's, base players, two drummers more in sync than a Siamese twin and guitarists topped of with the vision and flare of the organiser - something I will call 'The Jay Effect' - was what was in store for us. This was more of an experience than a gig with, at times, the melodies and music becoming practically hypnotic.

The MC needs a mention: I doubt I'll be seated as close to him again as if he isn't snapped up by some record label soon there is no justice in the world.  At times I did wish that the music would chill down a bit and allow the poetic texture of his vocals to take over, he had a clear honest sound that was both uplifting and extremely appealing, plus he was cute.

Talking of uplifting the string section or Magnificent Seven as they were named, added that essence only classical music possesses, the 'gig' would have not had the impact it did without them.  Then there's the drummers, how two people can bash away in such unison is a mystery, for the first half hour I wasn't even sure there were two drum kits.  Just thought it was one very good, very loud drummer.

Bassists and guitar players finished off the band the way that a rich dark chocolate finishes off an eclair.  And when all of the above played together, they built to a crescendo of emotions and musical enjoyment, the likes of which I haven't experienced in years.  Words pail into insignificance in comparison to the emotions these artists invoked, it was magical, miraculous and just so fucking awesome.  I haven't left a gig hoping to see the same band again so much in a really long time.  I'd have gone back the next day, even if the set was exactly the same.

And while you may think I am biased as my admission above states the artists are generally known to me, I would ask you to listen to them before passing judgement (not that easy but there are one or two videos lurking around).  If your current favourite band is Thor then I Strip For Couples are The Avengers.  On a really good day.  In really good moods. Having just had the best sex of their lives.

Still don't believe me?  Unfortunately THIS is all I can give you.  Just don't think for one minute it's a tenth as incredible as it was on the night.

I seriously think I need to stop mixing with such a bunch of talented mother-fuckers, or at least get good at something.

Bridget Jones - Mad At the Author (a sort of open letter to Helen Fielding)

Weight (not telling you) books read 1, reviews of said book 1, number of times cried over book 3 (v gd.) Warning: Beware spoilers.

So I did it, I read the whole of Bridget Jones in a weekend even though I knew Mark Darcy had been killed.  In my naivety I did somehow hope that it had all been a mistake or that he had been forced into witness protection and would turn up in the third scene but alas it was not to be.  So Fielding, I have reviewed your book and seeing as the last time I reviewed a book it was The Slap (writing that I had serious hatred for) this doesn’t bode well for you.

However the fact that I did read it in one weekend meant, at least, I do still think you can write and the comedy scenes you got Bridget into were still funny.  But offing MD is an ever present mistake permeating every page.  

To also miss out Sharon pretty much completely (off being married, since when would Sharon have left Bridget?) and to add insult to fatal injury, killing off Bridget’s dad and Uncle Geoffrey as well! Like we don’t already know men go first, its just all too much.  You should know that I'm not angry, just very disappointed and now mistrusting of any of your future works.   

You see we know there is pain in the world and that death is part of life but we don't go to Bridget Jones to have this point drilled home to us.  If we want the pain of real life we buy Jodi Picoult books, or read and watch the news or look out the window.  If we want pseudo-real life we watch Made In Chelsea or TOWIE*

We are not children that need to be taught about the harsh realities of what someone feels when a father and husband die and all the pain that entails.  We come to Bridget for lighthearted relief from these things, trusting you to provide that relief which is all too sparse these days.  

While I understand writers want to grow and change their characters, a nice divorce or separation would have been much better (with a healthy reconciliation at the end).  As it is the whole book is tinged with a tar like sadness which won't wash off even with the less than realistic and Happy Ever After ending your editor probably forced you to put in.  

You've let us down, you’ve let yourself down and worst of all you've let Bridget down.

A word of warning Sophie Kinsella, don't ever kill off Luke Brandon, I GENUINELY couldn't take it.

*please note, I will never again watch TOWIE, tried it once and spent 3 minutes watching a miniature dog take a dump.

Tattoo Breakdown - What happens when you have a tattoo

Needles are not really my thing, you'll never find me having botox and I have never, not ever had me even a little heroin.  However this weekend I voluntarily allowed myself to get pricked, and as of 5th October I am no longer a Tattoo Virgin.  Being a lover of describing things and cos I know you lot are proper nosy I'm documenting my experience in a blow-by-blow or prick-by-prick (yeah! cos that sounds less rude) account.

First, we need to go back 3-4 months to when my dad advised he was getting a tattoo for his 70th birthday.  The doctors wouldn't let him do a parachute jump or wing-walking (I kid you not) so this was his next best celebratory option.  I'd wanted a tattoo since my early 20's, had made (and cancelled) 2 appointments and walked in (and then out of) a tattooists on 5 separate occasions, but I figured if dad can do it then so can I.  After deciding what I wanted (thank you Pinterest, Google Images and Lauren Thomas!) I emailed the tattooist with the script, style and wording I had settled on.  And then waited...

3 months later we turned up at TattooUK in Rayners Lane.  The place stank of disinfectant (in a good way), Clean white walls were decorated with tattoo inspiration and what sounded like a really fucked off bee was buzzing in the background.  Kathy passed me a sign off sheet (am I on blood thinners, do I suffer from Psoriasis, did I understand that tattoos are permanent!?) and took in my somewhat panicked look.  'This your first tattoo' she stated rather than questioned, indeed it was as she must have then realised as I proceeded to ask question after question:
How long have you been doing this?  (Ans: 3 yrs)
Are you sure the needles are fresh? (Ans: yes, opened and disposed of in front of me)
What happens if I need to sneeze? (Ans: tell me early!)

Once the transfer had been properly placed, a job which took 5 attempts, (no bad thing you really don't want a lopsided tattoo!|) and which the manager, Tuesday, had to OK we were good to go.  The buzzing started and I found myself thinking, but this is fine, I can't even feel it I must have a really high pain threshold.  Five seconds later a tiny army of sewing needles started having a fight on my wrist.  No lie the first section hurt (my sister saying, 'describe the pain? what does it feel like' didn't help) and I did get a little woozy.  But after a minute or two with some deep breathing, a cola and the fan pointed in my direction we started up. And actually from that point on it really wasn't that bad.  The pain was more annoying than anything but you can't swat away a tattoo artist like you would a mosquito, I'm led to believe they really don't appreciate it. Twenty minutes later a flood of endorphins (now that bit I did like!) washed over me as she said 'that's it, you're done'.

And there it was, my beautiful baby body art.  I wonder what I'll get next?


Thinking of getting inked? here's a few tips:

1. Make sure you know what you want, and then mull it over in your noggin for at least a few months.  Had I gone with my first tattoo idea I'd have a CHARMED logo tramp stamped to my lower back.  On trend in the 90's but now quite dated and not something I'll want when I'm 90!
2. Be in tip-top condition when you go (no coughs or cold).
3. Don't drink alcohol the night before your appointment, it thins the blood.
4. Ensure you've eaten something and have a sugary drink with you.
5. Tell your tattooist if you're feeling hot or queezy.
6. Don't be afraid to say you think the transfer (that they'll be working from) is off to one side or not straight.  They wont mind, they'll want their work to be admired, not amusing.
7. If you're not 100% sure you want it wait, you can always make another appointment.

Filled Up On Philly

While New York had that crazy fast paced "what the heck is going on-oh it's just finished-and hey now what's that"?! vibe, Philly was a little more like real life.  The weather was a little less melty-feeling, the views were a bit less built up (not much mind) and the people were definitely less in your face and just so darn lovely.

Baseball matches (good lordy but they are long!) trips to the city and seeing the first original Beatles LOVE sign were all highlights but there were other events that happened in Philly which I can only describe as momentous.

Life Ambition No:1 Visiting THE basketball pitch where the Fresh Prince opening scene was filmed.  By the way when Mr Prince talks about living in West Philly I'm afraid to tell you he lied, this scene was filmed in East Philly.  From what I can gather if it really was in West Philadelphia then the cameras and machinery used to shoot the scene would have been ripped off and sold before Fresh could utter 'Yo home to Bel Air'.  But that's OK as later in the trip I managed)...

Life Ambition No:2 Drink from one of those red plastic cups.  I genuinely have no idea why this makes me so happy, maybe cos I'm now one step closer to a hero of mine.

General Cool Thing: Not so much an ambition but wildly cool all the same was coming face to metal face with the statue of one Rocky Balboa.  We also ran up the stairs and jumped around singing 'Eye of the Tiger' (something no one else has ever thought of doing I'll bet).

All this took some beating but a trip to Chestnut Hill took my breath away.  Imagine any Sandra Bullock chick flick that's set in middle America.  You know the sort of town you see in the first 'few setting the scene' images? That's Chestnut Hill. 

The whole town was like an advert for the American Dream.  A high street with all independent shops (except one McDonald's and a Starbucks (which I didn't see that many people in) and it coming up to Fall, as they say, garden centres with pumpkins as big as your butt, if your butt was very very big indeed.

A genuinely dreamy place, if you don't believe me see for yourself...

Tis Gorgeous no?

New York Food, more than just big apples.

Other than the shopping (where if you show Bloomingdales visitors center staff your driving licence from outside of USA you get 10% off)  the architecture and Central Park, you can’t blog about NY without mentioning the food and drink. And whether decidedly dodgy or mouth-wateringly morish they know how to make a lasting impression with their grub. 

 

One place to try for breakfast is Café28 in Chelsea.  This place does a gourmet deli like we Brits could only dream of.  After a wildly overpriced breakfast at the hotel on our first morning Cafe28 became our first stop every morning for the rest of our trip. 

Fresh fruit platters, yogurts with granola and pastries as big as your head were all available along with a large selection of teas (not bad) and coffees (hazelnut decafe was well worth a try).  They’d also cook you up eggs, bacon, sausage and fresh pancakes in minutes (McDonalds eat your heart out)


Cafe28 also catered for a quick and cheap lunch with enough wraps and types of bread rolls to feed an army and a plethora of fillings.  If you fancied it you could even get your dinner here, I watched a Japanese sushi chef making fresh sushi in the morning and on the other side of the shop was soups, lasagnes, Chinese, even roast dinners were available. Now I know why you never see Americans cooking on TV, seriously why don’t we have these in the UK?!

Talking of dinner one of the best meals we ate was at was ilili (pronounced i-lilly), a Lebanese restaurant with panache and style also based in Chelsea.  Cubed falafels that were full of flavour and herby lamp chops where a real taste sensation. Yes it was quite pricey (meal for 2 came to over £100) and the ceiling was pretty low so the acoustics made it difficult to have a real conversation, but really there is nothing else bad to say about ilili.  For a special occasion this is tops.

For something a bit cheaper Lulu & Me was a cute little place (round the corner from ilili).  The waitress was a doll and the chocolate torte cake was completely morish. 

Over to Greenwich Village and Organika and their herbs salad gave me something else to rave about (no really!).  Not one to harp on about greens that much, the food here really stayed with us (in a good way and no it wasn’t because of the mojitos I was drinking that night!).  All their food is organic and the salad had an interesting mix of parsley, dill, mint (sounds odd, works a treat!) chives, caramelized walnuts, apples and gorgonzola cheese.  I WILL be trying this at home.

If you’re just out for a drink there were two places I would recommend (depending on your sup preference).  If its craft beers you’re after Blind Tiger in Greenwich was cool, dark and sold many different types of sweet sweet nectar.  The staff were so cool and it was here I met the most laid back bouncer ever, a total honey.

For something a bit more upmarket (and a Cosmo to die for) try 230 5th Avenue for the Sky Bar.  Wait till its dark but then haul arse over there before 9pm when the queue goes a bit nuts and falls out the door.  Up to the 20th floor and you see the Empire states building in all its glory as you hit the bar.  It’s a view and half.  And another half. 

New York. Doesn’t fail to impress does it?

New York New York – so good she blogged about it (at least) twice!

It is impossible to be bored here.  Whether it’s sitting in fountains in near 100 degree heat or watching the tourists waiting for their turn in front of the Alice statue in Central park.  Maybe you’ll be taking in the view at the top of the rock (a personal preference over the Empire States building) or sailing past the Statue of Liberty, New York is a city for all your senses.

Now in order to keep a little balance and in true British style I feel I should at least make mention of the negatives.

Restrooms
I’m not sure who first decided the toilets should be so low and the water content so high.  Whoever it was is a proper joker as for women at the end of their time there is a real chance you could end up with wet fingers (not like that you dirty lot!).   Think about it and be careful on your trip.

Feckin’ scaffolding
I get that a city this big and busy needs a little upkeep now and then but seriously! The Plaza, St Patricks (inside and out!) The Brooklyn Bridge! even Bloomingdale's and Barneys had plaster boards on the inside.  Thank God Grand Central was still in its miraculously romantic splendor as I might have thrown myself off the top of the Chrysler had that too been surrounded by the ugly metal piping that covered a multitude of my favourite buildings.  No matter, as we all know New York is more than its architecture.

You know those shopping trips when you go out and nothing catches your eye and you head home dejected and feeling a little empty inside?  Well New York is the exact opposite of that.  Every corner of every area has something, some have many somethings, you will want take away with you.  Plus the air con is killer, which when you’re outside in New York Summertime is a basic human right.  While there are of course the seriously well-known brands, a couple of the cooler high street names I felt were well worth a mention. 

Anthropologie
The minimalist silver type on white bags and pleasing layout of the store delicately whispers for you to come in a while away a happy hour browsing their goods.  Everything from clothes and gifts to staircases (a necessity for your New York loft apartment right?) and sofas are available.  Weary shoppers are allowed to perch on them but underneath are also neat little price tags for each item.  Now available in London and Edinburgh in the UK, the majority of their shops are still stateside, but no matter, it’s a great excuse to book another trip back (just don’t tell your other half about the online service).

Sephora
Now I KNOW this used to be in the UK as I remember friends of mine, ahem ‘borrowing’ the odd item in my school days.  Now they are all across the pond however if you throw a quarter in any direction there’s a good chance you’ll hit a Sephora shop.  

Either that or an angry New Yorker.  Beware they’ll take you down which will really be your own fault for chucking coins around, but I digress…

Sephora has a serious range of beauty products as well as their own line of make up and perfumes.  My favourite is Urban Decay as their eye-shadows are silky smooth and glide on to give a flawless finish on all eyelid ages.  Their tools and brushes are among some of the best I have seen and enable even the clumsiest of us to apply precision eye makeup like a pro (that’s a professional not a prostitute, I really can’t speak for their make-up rituals).  

Returning to a sleepy village outside of Cambridge my trip seemed a universe, let alone a world away, but so much have I seen, that it’s left me with the inspiration to write again.  There will at least be a New York Food and a Philadelphia blog to come, fingers and toes crossed I can keep up with this New York’s Resolution.

Impressive Dresses Fashion in Motion (Serious Gushing ensues!)

I’m not one to gush, normally I find it much easier, more genuine (and if I’m honest funnier) to tear down than suck up, but then my fashion soul mate and I attended the latest Fashion in Motion event at the Victoria & Albert museum on 19th July.  And I just knew, from the first item I saw I was a gonna.  Hook, line and sinker I fell for Jenny Packham designs. NB: if you are sickened by infatuated writing please turn away now. 

Celebrating 25 years in the bis (no small feat in the age of austerity and the credit crunch) Jenny, yes we are on first name terms now, joined with the V & A to showcase her latest few collections.  Tickets were free (as long as you didn’t mind hanging on the phone like Blondie) which I didn’t.

And true the lighting was amazing, the long white benches and catwalk looked professional, clean and chic and the music had an air of elegance to it but by far, the stars of the show were the gowns.  Without exception each and every one was totally exquisite (told you I would gush, it gets worse too.) Even the dresses that weren’t literally breathtakingly and exciting to watch were still pieces of art.  

Billowing sleeves and diamante details, Grecian styled gowns and ostrich feathered minis sauntered past the slack mouthed audience (and I can say this as I was one of them).  Sparkly bejewelled wonders and belted gowns made of a silk which looked as if it was the most elegant ghost you’d ever see glided down the runway .

True, unless your life is one long episode of Revenge or Gossip Girl this is not day to day attire but that genuinely didn’t matter.  From the sheer elegance of her gowns to her ability to make a girl feel like a princess without a hint of crassness the sickeningly talented Jenny P is most definitely my Designer of the Decade (seriously Stella M should just quit now, she’s never going to be anywhere near this good).

When she popped out at the end to give the little bow (like they do at real fashion shows) I don’t mind admitting I actually squealed like a 14 year old girl at her first gig.  And just when I thought I could love her no more she goes and creates a high street line, No. 1 by Jenny Packham is available in Debenhams now.   That’s my new girly crush signed, sealed and delivered then. 

Fun Factoid (not sure if I hate the word 'factoid' or not yet so am trying it out here) Jenny is sister to the Chris Packham.  Those born in the 70’s will remember him as the really wild show’s spikey haired cool dude, others may recall he’s the one that voiced that we should stop trying to save giant pandas  ‘I reckon we should pull the plug. Let them go with a degree of dignity’) 

Images taken from V & A press release.

Ps Hmmm, I think I do hate it!

Should we be Grateful for Gatsby?

 

So the long awaited latest Luhrmann offering has finally hit our cinemas and the critics it seems are out for blood.  I thought I’d have a go at reviewing the film without the inconvenience having read the book (thereby sidestepping those pesky preconceptions that come when one story is told in two medium).

So basically it’s about a young man Nick Carraway (Tobey Maguire) who finds himself involved in a debaucherous lifestyle led by his new friend and neighbour, the Great Jay Gatsby (Leonardo DeCaprio).  Gatsby just happens to be in love with Carraway’s cousin (Cary Mulligan) who is unfortunately married to, well her husband (some other dude).  Gatsby sets about securing the object of his affections with all his wealth and intrigue which ends in a tragic twisted finale of love, death, big cars and mind-numbingly beautiful clothes.

Firstly I should say that if you’re not a fan of over-the-top crazy extravagance in your films you’re not likely to enjoy this (or any Baz Luhrmann) epic anyway.  This is not a delicately told love story but one of crass extravagance and overtly paraded wealth of the 1920’s upper echelon.




It’s a spectacle for sure, invading your senses with colours, noises and actions.  The party scenes in particular are a mesh of dances, drunken carryings on and well more drinking.  There is something going on in every corner of this film, so much so that you could spend a great deal of time watching the extras and still enjoy it.  Except you won’t cos Leo is quite enchanting.  Really though, my issue is with the other characters not how they are portrayed. 

It’s Daisy that needs a smack round the head with a wet fish (and is about as interesting as one, Lord only knows why Gatsby is so into her.)  The pathetic creature actually says this of her child ‘I hope she’s a fool, a beautiful fool, that’s the best thing a woman can be in this world.’ Oh COME ON! Its 1922, Amelia Earhart is alive and well and soon to be heading off across the pacific and Pankhurst has just helped get you the power to vote, and the best you think a woman can be is a fool?!

Honestly all the women are weak or weird in this film and the men generally aren’t any better, with the exception of Gatsby that is.   Luckily Leo’s honest portrayal of a man in love saves the film as he manages to break your heart, make you laugh and charm the pants off of you in each scene.  His only faux pas being the amount of times he says ‘Old Sport’, it’s at least 5 times per scene sometimes twice in a sentence.  After about an hour (and the films 2.2) I’d heard it so much I considered drowning myself in the leftover champagne being poured into a spittoon during one post-party scene.

A word has to be said about the soundtrack which is both genuinely exciting and self-praising craziness from Jay-Z and his clan.  Kanye West and Beyoncé both contribute and I wouldn’t be surprised if trawling through the credits you found Kim Kardashian noted as a backing singer.  His poorly timed diss of Taylor Swift in 100 $ bill (implying that she’s more famous because his fwiend jumped on stage and snatched her 2009 MTV award away) is a cheap shot and I’d expect better of him.  That said the contributions from Lana Del Rey, Florence and the Machine, The XX and Emile Sande pull the track listing into something more than the self-indulgent whining of two spoilt hip hop princes who don’t know quite how lucky they are.

So yes it’s too long, yes the people in the story are vile and yes the soundtrack is a little odd, but if you look at the real stars of the show (the costumes and set design) you’ll not be disappointed. Some of the items made by Catherine Martin (with a little help from Prada) were exquisite; I didn’t even mind Mulligan’s sappy face when she wore that lilac dress.


The problem I think is that it was so highly anticipated that expectations rose exponentially, it was then delayed which only added to the hype.  Hoopla was whipped up so that when it actually came out, the only thing that would have truly sated the critics would have been if Gatsby himself literally jumped off the screen, spewing the answer to world peace whilst simultaneously handing out Louboutins to each and every member of the audience.

Which actually, come to think of it, maybe the answer to world peace, “free shoes people, anyone still interested in fighting? No? Good!

Cannes Carpet Critique!

So Cannes is in the can and the best film they could come up with seems to have been about a lesbian with blue hair, I honestly couldn’t comment having not seen it.  However what I have seen was the myriad of red carpet dresses that were paraded around and so donning my dress-judgy hat (it’s one of many I assure you) lets dig into the array of wonderfulness that was the Cannes Red Carpets…

Tilda Swinton

Channelling Spencer 'Wankee-face' Matthews from MIC's hair and wearing gold pyjamas The best I could say here is at least she remembered to wear a little lipstick.

Karlie Kloss

Giving a nod to the roaring 20’s (how very Gatsby) Karlie looked every inch the sophisticated starlet.













 Marion Cotillard

Was elegance personified in her Dior Gown.  Loved the flash of the silver shoe too!















Heidi Klum 

Giving us a real flash back to the Dynasty era with her one shoulder padded studded white number.  I get that she 'stunning and single' but seriously love, unless you want to start being compared to Madonna you may want to put it away (just once in while!)


















Mila Jolivich


You know I’d have raved about this look if she hadn’t had a ribcage like an old washing board.  You could seriously see every inch of her skeletal frame and it was about as sexy and attractive as a large turd.  Had the dress a little more coverage on top it would have been one of my favourites.











Katerina Graham 

And the award for looking least like herself had to go to the witch from Vampire Diaries.  The Marylin Monroe Blonde Bombshell look was among the worst I have seen in a while and the orange 70’s designed dress, though well fitted made me itch just looking at it. Whoever told her that she should try this look is a short sighted moron, everyone's allowed a style hiccup once in a while (thank God) but please learn from this and shoot your stylist K  WORST DRESSED

Emma Watson

Emma was her usual sweet self, and looked lovely in her Chanel Gown at The Bling Ring premier (another film I just have to watch!)  I’d love for her to take a bit more of a risk but there’s no faulting the turnout.










 Zhang Ziyi


However my new favourite Style Star has to be Zhang Ziyi.

The Chinese actress (whose films I should probably at least skim over if I’m going to praise her so) turned up in Chanel, Dior and Elle Saab to name but a few and looked ravishingly elegant in all of them.  Best Dressed of the whole epic event by about a million miles!