As so many people have been kind enough to tell me how much they enjoyed both my post on the fabulous Harvey Nichols window displays, and also my photos from Barnes Pond, here is a little something for the photo-loving fashionistas amongst you. The windows of Harvey Nics currently hold displays whose theme I can only interpret as "Explosion in a 90s teen drama scenery store". The windows along Knightsbridge are crammed with plastic bulldogs, jauntily-attired skeletons, marshmallow-filled bathtubs, neon day-glo plastic in monumental quantities and hiding amongst it all, the odd mannequin being attacked by a bejeweled panther. My words alone cannot do these chaotic dioramas justice, so here are some photos for you to see them yourselves...
Exhibit A - the military look meets disco atop a large sparkly...err strawberry? Pair of lips? This close its rather hard to tell. These days a cassette tape is something of a rarity but fortunately the window-dressers have found several vast versions. They seem to have disgorged their tapey innards all over this woman and her blow-up palms trees however; maybe they were going for a "forest of music" concept.
I don't know what I find most alarming about this scene. It's either the throwback 70s mullet on the mannequin, the strange pale child riding the blow-up shark in the sky or the sheer tackiness of those enormous sunglasses. And what does "S" stand for? Sea? Sozzled flamingo? Scary shark? Scary sunglasses? Just plain Scary!
It's behind you! This golden beauty is so blinded by the strange blonde croissant on her head she has no idea a large blue eagle has burst from the fuchsia wardrobe behind her and is coming after her hair-patisserie. (The deep sea diver over her shoulder doesn't look like he'll be much use fighting off the feathered fiend. Although the helmet looks like a good defense against its silver talons.)
No pose screams "look at my truly fabulous outfit" than the casual lean against a couple of old milk crates covered in plastic animals. And is that a cake on top of the crates? Judging from the poor flamingo throwing up over the pale green tyres it was obviously past its best whatever it was.
And it's obviously all got too much for this poor dear - overcome with haute couture, she's drowned herself in a bath of marshmallows, such a sad way to go. The life-ring was clearly a total waste of time. But at least she still has her fabulous pink heels. And at the end of the day, in fashion, what else matters?