London Fashion Week brings a burst of creativity and energy to the city each September. While the catwalks showcase high fashion, the true spirit of fashion is found on the streets, where ordinary Londoners and industry observers mix together. Photographer David Yeo captures this dynamic intermingling through candid photos taken around Somerset House, revealing the diverse people that breathe life into London's fashion scene both on and off the runways.

2. LONDON
FASHION
WEEK
PORTRAITS
LENSED BY
DAVID YEO
WORDS BY
DAISY DUMAS

3. i
t’s September. Inside, hallowed catwalks cut a Like Baudrillard’s Paris, girls
The end of an- path through the sight of a hard- totter through the arcades of
other all-too-short ened set of career voyeurs. And Somerset House whilst men in
bright and sweaty whilst beauty and vision thrill dark glass sip from takeaway
summer in Lon- the hard-to-please, make no mis- coffee cups and watch.
take: money fuels this engine.
fresh pinches of
autumn are begin- On the streets, though, is where of the fashionscape.
ning to creep into ideas and creativity really come It’s the underbelly of high art, the
the mornings. alive. The pavements host the economic viability of a stylish
living, breathing embodiment of idea. Uniqueness democratised.
A number 6 double-decker fashion and its heartbeat is not
sweeps by and dissolves into And like
Aldwych’s curved, theatrical a buoyant
dinghy, it’s a
tall, androgynous girl giggles. vein of cre-
“...Without the Sartorialists, ativity that
The streets – these streets – are Stockholms, refuses to
be dragged
Isabellas and Daphnes, the d o w n
over - for hundreds of years. mind-blowing design and or over-
The gum-trodden pavements world-class style we see on inflated.
have seen all there is to know in private catwalks would seem as True, street
fashion
footsteps, the sounds of a billion
hollow as a set prop” wouldn’t
stories and the lights of lives and -
lives played out in these worn, out the sea
homely concourses. of publicity
locked behind doors and blink- and rambling modern-day docu-
Where a young Elizabeth, cour- ered by guest lists. menters that London Fashion
tesans, nobility, plumed horses Week proper brings. But without
and ladies-in-waiting once trod, It’s treading the pavements. Lit the Sartorialists, Stockholms, Is-
now comes a more earthly pro- by the lamps of a stream of black abellas and Daphnes, the mind-
cession: ripped tights, cotton cabs, watched by an audience blowing design and world-class
shirts, leather shoes, doffed hats lurching by, eyes peeled through style we see on private catwalks
and woollen coats. Plastic sun- crowded bus windows. would seem as hollow as a set
glasses, leggings, piercings and prop.
leopard print. The catwalk: our slabbed side-
walk, of course. And our models: Like the Thames that once
And where once those who en- they come to see and be seen, to
tered Somerset House did so on support, to shine, to be part of House’s arches, London fashion
strictly regal business, an alto- a multi-billion dollar global in- has energy – it surges, ebbs and
gether different breed of gentry dustry, to parade, to work. To be swells. Its protagonists will visit
photographed, to photograph. To and will leave. Styles will come
and columned passages: fash- blog, cajole, meet, mingle. To in- and go and designers will burn
ion’s royal set. Designers, styl- form, learn and absorb. Today, in bright and fade. But London’s
ists, fans, students, the hungry, this city, everyone is a model. paths, pedestals and palaces of
celebrities, artists, wannabes. infectious creativity will remain.

5. Here, David Yeo’s reportage
from the sidelines of Somerset
House’s frenetic hubbub cap-
ture fashion spilling into London
life – and London life crossing
into the London Fashion Week
bubble. It’s not a normal snap-
shot of London fashion, but a
hyper-condensed, concentrated,
creative burst – and its glow will
onto some of the world’s best-
known catwalks. The lense is
turned away from mass-produced
runway models and instead onto
their watchers so that gradual-
ly, the audience is becoming as
much a part of the circus-esque
spectacle as the designer dresses
themselves. Taken on the hoof –
as naturally as possible, usually
in a rush and at the behest of the
elements - Yeo’s photographs of
photographers, models, movers
and mysterious looks expose the
rapturous buoyancy of the city’s
style.