Graeme Black, the Scottish designer who walked away with this year’s Scottish Fashion Award and put in significant time at both Armani and Ferragamo, has just been appointed a “Creative Consultant” for Boss Black, the more formal section of Hugo Boss’ womenswear collection.

Apparently, the only thing that made him stop and question whether or not it was the right move was the idea of once again traveling for work, but he’ll be able to keep his eponymous collection, which Tim Blanks called, “strictly old-school,” while going back and forth to Germany.

Hopefully he’ll bring something new school, and less old-money, to Hugo Boss, maybe even a spark or two?

Black’s first collection for the label will debut next February for AW10.

Getting to a fashion show, especially in Paris, is a little bit like running a gauntlet.

First, you have to find where you’re going, then you have to battle your way through the really good street style photographers who hang out on the perimeter of the venue to get the best shots, then you encounter a literal mob of Japanese photographers before dealing with the French security guards who couldn’t care less who/what/why you’re there.

Tim Blanks tackled the issue for
Style.com - or at least attempted to. He caught Sarah Rutson, Anne Christensen and Natalie Massenet discussing the pros and cons of the street style phenomenon but didn’t manage to talk to a single street style photog.

The best part comes when he asks Anna Della Russo why it’s such a thing now and she says, “People want to see fashion on the real people.” Seriously?

Sitting at the Charles Anastase show, we felt like London Fashion Week had really started.

It was a sweaty, hot, mad mess in what looked like someone’s really large flat. The PR’s screamed: “Is Suzy coming?”, “Yes!”, “No, I’ve just rung her driver!”, “Get Tim Blanks!”, “Is he downstairs?”, “Yes! Yank him up the stairs!” while Pixie Geldof held court in the front row with Diane Pernet and Daisy Lowe crashed half way through.

The collection was part punk, part wearable. We’d rock the plaid jackets and striped skirts anywhere, though we probably wouldn’t tie our arms down with rope; the oversized pink cardigan was striking, though no hand chains, please; the shoes were unreal though we’d need them 3” shorter and minus the smeared mud.

Shirts came printed with “Dementia,” “Don’t Kiss,” and “Malia Obama” and the models wore the goth red lip that was everywhere in New York.

Very excited chatter led the way downstairs.