That recession thing everyone was obsessing over during New York Fashion Week? Well, in London, they have no idea what you’re talking about.

From our first show, Ashish - which featured a raging live performance, acrobats and gift bags packed full of makeup - to the last, there wasn’t even the slightest sign of an economic downturn. Champagne and food flowed, beer, wine and liquor, too; coffee in the mornings, water, Vitamin water, and Godiva chocolates everywhere you turned.

Gift bags popped up at almost every show - two at some like Roksanda and PPQ - totes packed with cosmetics, hair products, magazines, t-shirts and Barbies. And it felt like every single designer had an after party - including magazine and store parties, there must have been at least seven events a night.

And the photo pits, which we noticed were considerably smaller in New York this season, were huge. Not just at shows like Vivienne Westwood, but at Charles Anastase and Krystof Srozyna, too.

More importantly, no one even talked about it. Except for us of course, desperately running around asking everyone both British and American why it felt different on this side of the Atlantic. No one had an answer.

So we’ll leave it up to Paris - let the French have the final say in just how much the industry’s letting its inner turmoil reflect in its public face while we recover from London’s rollicking week-long party.

I’ve been salivating over shoes this week.

At yesterday’s Josh Goot show, I literally had to hold myself to the chair so as not to grab the two-toned platform wedges off the models’ feet. I’m not even sure if they were suede or slightly furry leather, but I want them alongside my imaginary collection of Charles Anastase stompers, Charlotte Olympia for Krystof platforms, Basso & Brooke elf shoes, Vivienne Westwood bondage sandals and everything else that I dream about.

The dresses and suits that went along with the shoes were pretty, too. There were two parts to the large collection: The first was a grouping of clingy, pinkish-beige and black, two-toned dresses, and the second made up of ruched pieces in what looked like a paint-splattered print.

Basically, I walked away from the show thinking about shoes and about how lovely it would be to be 5’10” and 110 pounds (ok, not really) so I could wear skin-tight nude dresses.

There was a girl sitting across from me at Krystof Strozyna.

She looked familiar, and not just because I was obsessed with her outfit yesterday, but because she looked like a retro version of Alice Dellal. Cue the killer shoes with red-trimmed soles and a sugar rush from the Godiva chocolates at Chris Kane and I finally realized it must be the model’s sister and shoe designer, Charlotte Olympia.

Her major platforms complimented newcomer Krystof’s geometric collection. He played with thick thread and loose knits over jersey with lots and lots and lots of cut outs before diving into a few neon pieces.

His ideas were excellent - the execution, less so. But for a young designer, whom we can only assume lacks endless funds, it was a great success.