MFWaits for no Man...

By 5pm the line outside the Urbis was winding back onto Corperation St. The people were out in force for Manchester Fashion Weekend, check out the woman in pink with the impromptu whip round, who assumed I was taking her picture on the sly when 'Actually love, I was just trying to get the queue'. Though it looks sunny it was icy in the shade but we were kept warm by the cutesy coffee girls and their free cappuccinos and chocolate covered nuts.

Not being officially on the list does pose a slight problem when faced with a list but luckily the organisers were so flustered all it took was a flash of my (faux) press pass and I was in the inner sanctum. With a charge of £3 for a goody bag This was not a blaggers paradise, there was a price tag on everything. A trim and restyle at the Toni&Guy salon would set you back a few quid and a wait in a queue while Bourjoir were charging £10 for slick of lipstick, however the event was hosted by Tia maria and Calvin Klein so we were entitled to free drinks and perfume samples. The reality is that for fashion to exist like this anywhere out of London there has to be a price tag. I also somehow stumbled upon the VIP catwalk. The models walked and worked it donning forties inspired hair by the innovators at Toni&Guy. Very apt for this season as Dior, fashion pioneers, showed pro war-fabulous Hollywood Glamour in their A/W 07 collection. This inspiration was translated into the clothes. Designers included Julia Clancy, Oliver Goddard, Paul and Joe, Betty Jackson, Ben de Lisi and Matthew Williamson. With clinched waists, classic tailoring and bold simple colours and red, red lips
created the perfect vision of a Femme Fetale. Meow.

Matthew Williamson, still spinning from his Prince serenade, has brought his retrospective 'Matthew Williamson, 10 Years in Fashion' to the Urbis Centre, that's before New York. This home-coming of such a successful Manchester grown talent coincides perfectly with Fashion Weekend as his designs closed the show.

A priceless moment arrived when an array of would be famous soap stars walked in after the show had started (Nancy that!) only to find the front row was full, leaving them scatter off to the sparce isle seats at the back. This put proof to the phrase that fashion waits for no man, or indeed no overdressed woman. Meeeow.