My virus (yes it's a virus, I've decreed it so) lingers whilst the last day of fashion week ebbs by. I meet Sarah for lunch in the park by Embankment I had forgotten about the cute deck chairs tucked away by the station, we opt for the grass maximising the late summer sun. She presents a small plastic box inside my very own business cards, I pretend not to be excited, I hide it poorly. With a fuller belly I head up the strand, clocking the fashion week departees as I go, exclamation marks in a tourist information guide. I arrive and sneak my way into the presentations, snapping merrily as I go, I sneak as they proclaim they're full, they lie. There is a lot on offer, alas none of which I can report on as I was relying on my photographs for names and details. My camera was sacrificed to the gods at the Boateng show later that evening, I spent yesterday in mourning; today is a new day. After too much champagne at the presentation everyone dies and heads back east, I have four tickets to the Boateng show, I ring round those in the vicinity and no one is picking up, I decide to head over to Leicester Square on my own. Alas by the time my friends come back to me it's too late, they are across the other side of town continuing with their evening. I park my bike and gaze at the massive Boateng billboard's which adorn the Odeon facade, it is chaos, there are so many queues to get in I linger at the front and dip in, I watch the tourists lining up hoping to get a snapshot of someone, something. Vanessa Phelps walks by, more celebrities come, none of which I recognise, the paps snap energetically. They begin to let us in 20 at a time, the wait creates tensions and the front is becoming less friendly, more scrum like. I'm in. Leopard print seating and baby Moet await. After a reasonable wait it begins, we watch a film with an American documentary vibe, suddenly hot men of every genre appear, dressed fittingly, every look is catered for. We are experiencing one man's display of everything he has achieved in 25 years and it's bang on cue. I am in awe, I wasn't sure what to expect and I am blown away, there are four collections rolled into one, a 100 guys on stage immaculately presented. I spot a few guys I know, one I used many moons ago for a presentation Luke Waller, he looks dashing, I'm bizarrely proud. Boateng get the delivery right, the crowd are rapturous, he appears on stage with his father to a standing ovation, what a way to mark 25 years in the business, I felt privileged to be part of it.
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