The secret to London style? It’s all in the mash-up

I write this from Greece, having spent the past week flipping between an olive green strappy Eres swimsuit with sunbleached Levi’s cut-offs and my tennis whites, plus an oversized Chanel basket bag full of books and beauty products for the beach. Flying only with hand luggage gifts me a minimalism I relish. A couple of vintage headscarves and a tangle of jewellery are all I need here to change it up after dark.

But it’s the last day of my holiday and London is calling. London Fashion Week, with its magnetic buzz of shows and happenings on and off the schedule, kicks off. All eyes are on the city and its designers, creative teams, models and their vision of the future.

London is the city of my dreams and the best place in the world to live and work. London style is British style and that in turn is global style. It’s a testament to the creatives who travel here, the artists and musicians, students and designers who gather to bring their diverse stories and style to the capital. The Scottish mills, the northern manufacturers, the art schools across the UK and anyone who grows up looking for something different can find identity and connection through fashion — via magazines and clubs, fantasy and community.

For me, London style is a collage — a personal mash-up of Golborne Road and the archives of V&A East, of festivals and park life. It’s a young Mick Jagger on the tennis court and the elderly Jamaican women cooking outside my local church every weekend. It’s Tilda Swinton on stage in Man to Man at the Royal Court and Samantha Morton riding high on The Odyssey Oscar buzz. It’s in the studio with Sampha and friends for Everything is Recorded. It’s Lily Allen in a Liz Taylor negligée and lashes for West End Girl. It’s power couple Sabrina and Idris Elba trailblazing via multi-disciplinary talents, plus philanthropy and mentorship with charismatic modern grace. It’s prima ballerina Francesca Hayward and boxer-turned-filmmaker Ramla Ali channelling excellence into influence. And my personal style icons — Amanda Harlech in a hug of Patagonia fleece over archive Chanel on the Eurostar and Juergen Teller in neon running shorts at our local farmers’ market.

It’s also manners and kindness. Reading, listening and community service (not the punishing kind). It all counts. It’s all style. Even more so if it’s mysterious and offline. Privacy is glamour. I’m not talking gate-keeping, more celebrating the fact that the best nights, looks, friendships and laughter are always off the record. Tell it to the teens.

I’ve long held a theory that, when analysed, style evaporates. For me, it’s intangible and elusive. A feeling rather than a formula. Maybe that’s why I rarely plan and rely on mood and instinct to get dressed, whatever the occasion. I’ve always been more attracted to the morning-after realness than the red carpet parade, even if I sometimes walk the walk and am lucky to flirt with a one-night stand Cinderella gown and jewels on occasion.

I’ve always loved to dip a toe into LFW, though I’m prone to overwhelm in a crowd. I’ll be there this weekend cheering for my friends — Erdem, Roksanda, Talia Byre — but will mostly be a voyeur, sometimes from a park bench with my dogs, probably in my boyfriend’s shirt and running shorts. But I am always rooting for the Brits. To build an independent brand now is an epic quest. The business of London fashion is a powerful advert for the UK as a centre of global creative excellence, attracting investment, tourism and top talent across the arts.

It would be a mistake to try to define a “London style” because the beauty of it is in the mash-up — in original thinking, making and diverse storytelling. The mythology of Brit cool is for real and energised, at the shows, on the street, on film and in art. As David Bowie wrote: “Style is about the philosophy of how we create our civilisation.” We could be heroes, just for one day.