Imagine the scene: I'm sitting at a fashion show, it's the usual procedure. You find your seat, you get comfy, you chat to a few work friends and then it starts. Except at the show yesterday, none of my friends were close by and who sat down by my side, only Anna Wintour. This is mildly amusing in theory, but in practice it's actually quite scary. She really does sit there with big shades on (inside, at 5pm) and doesn't smile, or make any facial movements, for that matter.
What I've noticed, during this London Fashion Week, is that Baby Pullen starts getting busy when the music comes up. At this particular show, it was in an especially frisky mood, so there I am, beautiful Roksanda dresses walking past, editor of US Vogue to my left, and baby is kicking so ferociously that my stomach looks like a bag of live potatoes. I actually laughed out loud, at one point, such was the incongruous nature of the situation. I'm sure AW didn't notice, but I found the whole thing pretty funny.
Despite this, and other enjoyable fashion moments, I have to admit that the end of LFW couldn't have come quick enough this season. I am totally whacked and am at home today part working/part recovering (part going to see the little Benjamin again). Not being in the office is going to become a regular event in 5 weeks time. I'm starting to get quite excited at the prospect, especially as it means that baby will follow (hopefully) soon after.
Darling Husband is going to finish the nursery tonight and then I get can buying!!!! Hip Hip Hooray. I mean, yes, great, we can start getting organised. I'm not desperate to get things sorted, no, not me.
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