MISC: Look Competition entry.

Imagine some sort of energy source. Think of the constant power, the overwhelming surge of energy, cables and wires holding firm the jolting forceful electricity, it keeps things moving, stops them running on empty. Then, think of the atmosphere on the front row that very moment before a show, so many waiting with bated breath, all united to share there love and there purpose. Anticipating the moment when the fabrics will be revealed, oh the moment when they glide down the raised platform in front of us - stitched, zipped and pinned onto walking mannequins . Never have we been more ready to view wonder and splendour, with eyes wide open we seek there beautifully haunting presence to fill our souls,. we are the army of people that breathe fashion, inhale the fine tailoring and elegant gowns - with quality so utterly marvellous they leave us only to gasp, and to stutter at there power.

When the lights come up, when the bright white heavy hotness beams down on me, I know this is it. I feel my calling find me finally, between the sketchpads, black Olsen esque sunglasses and blackberries. This is what I live for, see the glitter, lycra & polka dots? They are in my blood. The drum of a chunky ankle boot heel as it hit’s the catwalk connects to the very beat of my heart. They pound together as one, this is not fashion with life, this is fashion as life.

The detail of a clasp on a tote bag, a bow on a pair of dainty ankle socks, coloured laces in brogues. Every single second creates another epiphany, yet another moment of pure expression and inspiration on a runway, ready for you to soak up and enjoy with such pleasure. A live catalogue of exploding visionary art, built up over the weeks and months. The joy on the designers face when they finally see there scribbled thoughts an sketches once made with such haste finally living out a purpose, a purpose to do what fashion should do. To provide love, and to provide comfort, pleasure and awe.

I should be blogging from the look show as fashion, just the very though of it, the flicker of the colour blocked light bulb - It keeps me going. Clothes themselves fill me with an energy like nothing else ever could. My carbs are thick harris tweed blazers and my sugar? Hot pink platforms. My own electrical power source baffles many, its created by a pure passion for creative bright exploding fashion. Charity to haute couture, I thrive off it all. Corrupted colours, harsh thick lines, exposed seams…nothing fills me with such a joy and a desire to move to embrace it all so lovingly. silk runs through my veins, sequins show my scars and velvet cushions the blow of my broken bones. Fashion is everything to me, its keeps me alive. It keeps me moving, stops me running on empty.