There's me, high-street head-to-toe, struggling to remain vertical on the Tube train to Camden market, with my hair somewhat ‘disturbed’ by the very unruly gale funneling through the windows. Surrounded by likewise individuals with no desire to notice or be-noticed by any other passenger, accompanied by a Metro paper and Boots' meal-deal, one-by-one they hop off the train. Camden seems to be taking forever until my eyes catch glimpse of another commuter waiting at the other end of the carriage. Smothered in a trench coat very reminiscent of one seen at Burberry Prorsum S/S07 and carrying a brand-spanking-new Nicole Farhi red-leather handbag, she casually flicks through the glossy pages of Harpers Bazaar. Feeling slightly disheartened and hiding my ‘Chloe’ replica (£30 at a market stall in Bulgaria), we finally reach Camden Town.
A debate later starts as my friend and I stroll around the capital of self-expression, and a daunting one at that. People in gothic to grunge, ‘designer’ to boho or even just caked in fake, you see fashion, no hang on, style, interpreted in many different forms. Or do I mean fashion? What is the difference between fashion and style?