Literally just off the plane from Bangladesh and Qatar, I jump into a hectic few days of covering London Fashion week for a German Sunday newspaper. The contrast could not be greater - from the chaos of Dhaka traffic, poverty and a sea of deeply religious people at the Ijtema, I land in the fake world of fashion with its entourage of guestlist nazis, skinny models and all kinds of self-important fashionistas.
In a way it was a good reality check and a funny experience to dip into (I wonder which experience I am now writing about - Bangladesh or Fashion Week?), as long as I'm not stuck in either of them. Luckily we were relatively free to chose whom or what we wanted to cover, so I attended a couple of shows (for old time's sake), and portrayed a wide array of people attending the event.
In a way it was a good reality check and a funny experience to dip into (I wonder which experience I am now writing about - Bangladesh or Fashion Week?), as long as I'm not stuck in either of them. Luckily we were relatively free to chose whom or what we wanted to cover, so I attended a couple of shows (for old time's sake), and portrayed a wide array of people attending the event.
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