My childhood memories seem to be wreathed in the twin and far from harmonious olfactory sensations of patchouli oil and caustic soda.

Alexander McQueen's heartbreakingly premature death, at the height of his creativity and influence, has robbed the fashion world of a soaring and unique talent.

My childhood memories seem to be wreathed in the twin and far from harmonious olfactory sensations of patchouli oil and caustic soda.

I don't have an off-duty wardrobe.

I was ten years old when my first Vogue cover sang me its siren call and dashed me against the treacherous rocks of fashion obsession.

I have Tom Ford, Gucci, Saint Laurent, McQueen, and odd pieces that Ive just acquired because I happened to have come across them and felt they have some historical resonance.

I literally in the New York flea market - just when I was despairing of ever having a great serendipitous find - found a 1926 Chanel.