In September 2006, I visited Paris for Paris Fashion Week. Armed with neither a ticket or invite to any of the shows, I had to do my best to blag my way in. Basically, I discovered that if you're a pretty girl willing to flirt then you're pretty much going to get in. Most of the people checking tickets and manning barriers were men, and by men I mean real men, not men styled in the mould of Mr Humphries from the 'Are You Being Served?' sitcom. Here is how I got on.
PARIS
VIVIENNE WESTWOOD: "I AM EXPENSIVE"
MARITHE et FRANCOIS GIRBAUD
COSTUME NATIONALE
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