Every time London Fashion Week ostentatiously saunters around (wearing an unnecessarily jaunty hat and a pair of Astroturf pantaloons), Number 10 decides to throw a party. These celebrations are organised for precisely the same reasons Downing Street throws parties for farmers, boffins or the Welsh; to show they care.
Before David Cameron became toxic, he held his fair share, inviting fashion designers, industry leaders, journalists and photogenic magazine hardbodies to gargle supermarket Picpoul and inhale mini pork pies. But even he misread the room, looking coy and embarrassed at having to represent an industry that (unbeknownst to him) actually contributes more to British GDP than the car industry.
