The Anna Wintour effect

I reckon the world needs a 'fashion baddy' - someone on whom they can pin the snobbery, obsession with skininess and anti-ageing, as well as all the other things they don't quite get about the fashion industry. Because otherwise I can't really explain the falsehoods that have been printed about Anna Wintour's exploits at London Fashion Week, none more ridiculous than this story that she 'shunned' Alexa Chung and Pixie Geldof for behaving like teenagers in a sixth-form common room than true front-rowers. Now, let's be honest, who'd blame Anna if she did behave like that when confronted with London's annoying-young-things, but I was there sitting directly across from the trio and it didn't pan out like that photo suggests. In reality Anna took her seat on time - she's been punctual throughout the shows - and waited patiently, albeit utterly alone, for the show to begin. When Alexa was ushered to her adjacent seat she smiled and shook her hand - let's not forget by the way that the TV presenter is a new editorial consultant for UK Vogue - and even shared a rolling of eye moment when the show sponsors Samsung tried to shove new phones into both their laps for a quick photo opportunity. Then she concentrated on her job - watching the clothes come down the catwalk. So if you can read anything into her distaste it should be the fact she was the only editor-in-chief at the Twenty8Twelve show (no doubt due to the fact her current cover star is co-designer Sienna Miller) and the collection included Alice Dellal in a denim on denim jumpsuit.

Of course I've read Front Row and lapped up every moment of The September Issue but the one time I met Anna Wintour last time she was in London for Fashion Week she was nothing but professional and courteous, shaking my hand before delivering a well-thought-through and humble speech to the British Society of Magazine Editors audience. In fact, it wasn't her who behaved inappropriately at all, but rather those people who'd come to fawn over her who stepped away from the lift they'd been queuing for because she got in it and circled taking sneaky pictures on their BlackBerry of her half-eaten plate at lunch. If anything, it makes me feel a bit sorry for a woman who, sure, cultivated a myth around herself, but now has to live with it every day.

It's all about VB

I've often wondered why magazines and newspapers still insist on putting Victoria Beckham on their covers/front pages. Surely after almost a decade milking publicity, the general public has grown tired of the Beckham antics? It seems not. The question I've been asked most by my friends outside the industry about London Fashion Week is... 'So what was Victoria like?' This, despite the fact she flew in for a day, took in two shows and stayed, oh at least, eight minutes at the Burberry Prorsum after-party.

The answer, in case you're wondering by the way, is that she was actually surprisingly sweet. Bumping into her in the bum-fight that was backstage after the Burberry show, she seemed as overwhelmed as the rest of us by the bodyguards surrounding her. Ok, she had caked on the fake tan/make-up because her skin wasn't looking that hot, but she didn't look as skinny as those screaming headlines suggest. I was also impressed she brushed off her 'protectors' to make sure she answered the questions we were throwing at her about the show - even if her answers weren't exactly inspirational. 'It was fabulous. I loved seeing colour. And the accessories were brilliant,' she told me, looking directly in my eyes and smiling. Which, I've got to admit, left me somewhat starstruck. She's got it.

You know it's Fashion Week when....

- You can't remember what day it is, only what show's next

- There are 36 taxi receipts in your bag

- You start the day with a punnet of Blackberries and a sugar free Red Bull

- Your entire call history on your BlackBerry is filled with work contacts

- You can't feel your little toe any more

- You can pinpoint the colour palette everyone will be wearing in six months time (frosted pastels btw) but you haven't got a clue what happened at the Global Warming convention... Or even the Oscars

- 'Dinner' means a bowl of nuts and olives at a hotel bar

Fashion's 'homework'

When will I learn? Every season it's the same. I tell myself I don't need an entire new wardrobe for London Fashion Week. Remind myself that I have a fully stocked cupboard heaving with lovely clothes most of which I never wear. But then, with alarming regularity, the pre-FW fear hits five days before. First the frantic scramble to book with your hairdresser, then the obligatory pedi (for you will wear open toe shoes even if it is freezing outside) and finally a bulimia-style trawl through the shops buying up anything that 'could work' even when knowing fully well it'll go straight back unworn next week. It's not done to show panic to your peer group. When asked if they're going shopping the weekend before fashion week, the answer's usually a nonchalant, 'Oh, I might pick up a few vintage bits from Portabello.' But come that first - no second, when it all gets serious - day it's always clear that's fashion's famous fakery because no one can look that good on three hours sleep, stiletto burn and a champagne hangover without careful pre-wardrobe planning. And Bobbi Brown's under-eye illuminator. So here I am trying to do my best preparation. A shoulder-pad dress from Zara, a few cheap jewellery steals from the fashion cupboard, some vintage jackets stolen from my mum's still pristine 1970's closet, sister's borrowed Gucci sunglasses, a new Smythson notebook - and my Wang of course. I'm ready. Well at least I look the part. Inside, I still feel a bit like the girl who stayed up until 2am the night before a new year at school to get her summer homework done in time....