CSM students put on a night at the British Library.
Fashion Flashback

Fashion often gets a bad rap for being shallow and exclusive, but the show put on by Central Saint Martins last Friday-in the British Library no less-was neither of these things. Organised by students as part of the library's Spring festival, the huge space was turned into a catwalk cum dancefloor cum pop-up shop with a wide variety of guests in attendance.

It must be said that a visit to the British Library was well overdue (being a born and bred Londoner and never setting foot inside), so myself and my accomplice perhaps didn't partake in as many of the many activities on offer as we should have, for gawping at the spacious room around us. It should be noted here that the event was a sellout, and the space in question was primarily overhead. High ceilings much?

Barely through the door, glass of wine in hand we were treated to a Paper Fashion Show from the university's 2nd year Fashion Print students. In a Marc Jacobs fashion the models, feet bound in clear JuJu jellies, went down the escalator up the escalator and finished on the stairs, all dressed in paper frocks inspired by the library's vast collection of Japanese and Russian imagery. Following the last model's arrival on the stairs-in a gold cap and attitude to match-each student walked down the stairs to their model and took the girl's hand. Think debutante, think Marissa in The OC, think adorable.

Next up we headed to a talk from Iain R Webb and Camilla Morton-Dylan Jones and Tanya Ling had taken their turn earlier in the evening. Some confusion on our part mixed with the lack of clear signage meant we ended up one room down from the one we were aiming for, turning up only as Iain announced, "any questions?". Morton's completely crazy but apparently true anecdotes more than made up for it, and we sat listening intently while a heavily iced cupcake made it's way past our lips.

As the night wound down the photobooth-a usual Clash favourite-continued to be surrounded. Unfazed, we took to the dancefloor feeling only slightly like we were gatecrashing a grad ball.

Words: Zoe Whitfield

Photo: Thomas Betts


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