By Liz Jones
There have been three moments over the past few days when I have felt ashamed to be part of the fashion industry.
The first came on Sunday evening, when Topshop kicked off London Fashion Week with a catwalk show in the idyllic setting of a marquee in Holland Park.
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The clothes were lovely, fresh, young,affordable, infinitely wearable. But what made me feel uncomfortable was the fact that, right bang in the front row, next to Arcadia boss Philip Green and his 15-year-old daughter, and looking like the cat who got the cream, was Kate Moss.
Rumour had it that she was about to sign a deal to design her own collection for the High Street store, and although Mr Green wouldn’t confirm or deny the rumour on Sunday, he phoned me yesterday to explain his decision to indeed sign a contract to work with Kate, despite her history of drug and alcohol abuse.
When I asked him if he really thought she was a good role model for Topshop’s mainly teenage customers, he said:-
"It is not a question of her being a good role model.
"Of course there are pluses and minuses to hiring Kate, and you have got to be concerned, and yes there is always a risk.
"But I am comfortable that it won’t happen again, and she knows what could happen if it does."
He said that part of the reason for Kate making an appearance in the front row on Sunday was to take the temperature of the fashion press, to see how well regarded she still is, and that the rapturous reception she received only confirmed he had ‘made the right choice’.
But my experience over the past few days, as I have been talking to editors and models, designers and agents, has been that these are the last people in the universe you would want as the arbiters of what is and isn’t acceptable to put in front of impressionable young women.
The two other seminal moments that prompted me to write this piece were at the Gharani Strok show on Monday, when a clearly dazed model fell onto the front row.
Then at the Jonathan Saunders show on Tuesday afternoon, a girl bringing up the rear on the catwalk (the slot to model the last garment in a show is always the most prestigious, by the way) caused the audience to gasp in shock. Her back was so cadaverous, her arms and shoulders so eaten away (did you know that if you drop below a BMI of 12 you start to consume your own organs and muscle tissue?), that I decided to find out her name (Alyona).
Then I phoned her agency, Storm (who also represent Ms Moss), to find out if she was okay, and whether or not they were monitoring her closely enough, but, surprise surprise, nobody would take my call.
But what I found most infuriating of all, and which made me want to run onto the catwalk last night at Biba with a ‘Thin scum!’ banner, was how the fashion industry has closed ranks.
Virtually everyone I spoke to thought the whole issue of zero-size models on the catwalk was a great big yawn.
The consensus was that Madrid only introduced a ban on models with a Body Mass Index of less than 18 to put themselves on the fashion map. And that nothing, nothing will change, not this season, not next, and certainly not in Milan next week.
Shall I give you some examples of what people said to me this week, both on and off the record? When I raised this horny subject in a car between shows with a male fashion stylist who works for a newspaper supplement, he said: "Who wants to shoot clothes on someone who is fat and ugly?"
I could have pointed out that we are not talking about putting someone fat and ugly on the catwalk, but dare I say it, just occasionally someone who is a size 12 (Beyonce Knowles is a beauty, but even she would not pass fashion muster).
And I could have pointed out that, yes, I know some models are naturally thin, but what about the rest of us who aren’t, but I didn’t bother.
You would think fashion stylists would be more circumspect on this subject around me, since I raised the whole body image issue back in 2000, when I was editor of Marie Claire, and have written about women’s relationship with their body image on these pages ever since, but I can only assume they can’t read. Ah well.
Almost every single person I spoke to in the business didn’t think there was a problem. Take Bella Freud, who designed the Biba show.
When I spoke to her backstage she said: "You need to back off. It is wrong to criticise models for their weight. It is rude and ungracious."
While I wouldn’t worry too much about Ms Freud’s influence over teenage girls while designing for Biba, a label which is prohibitively expensive, I would worry that she also designs for the cheap, cheerful and very young Miss Selfridge.
Talking to the models themselves also got me precisely nowhere. When I challenged statuesque model Erin O’Connor, the star of the new M&S campaigns, on the subject, she would only raise her eyebrows, as if this was the most tedious thing in the world.
"I think any type of eating disorder is unhealthy," she said, a statement which made me wonder if she passed any GCSEs at all.
"I don’t know my BMI, and I have no idea what I weigh," she told me as we walked into the Gareth Pugh show at British Fashion Week HQ. "I am just made like this."
She found it hard to think of a model with an eating disorder, and when I helpfully mentioned British redhead Karen Elson, who has talked about her struggle with anorexia, she merely thought that was a one off.
I know for a fact that Karen still struggles to keep her weight down, and yet this is an industry which I was repeatedly told does not have a problem.
I got the same ‘line’ time and again. This is Catherine Bailey, wife of David, outside the Jasper Conran show.
"I am sick and tired of this subject," she barked at me, eating a strawberry. "It is no worse now than when I was modelling. The reason the girls are thin is because they haven’t had a chance to develop yet."
This is Lily Cole, also backstage. She is the biggest model in the world at the moment, and I don’t mean this literally.
"Look," she said, backing away from me. "I don’t want to talk about this, I am afraid of saying the wrong thing. I feel persecuted, to be honest, and I will be quite glad to start at university and have some peace and quiet."
Lizzie Jagger, too, told me she had never dieted in her life. The fashion industry, you see, is desperately trying to shift the blame for the cult of the size 00 - a British size minus two, if you can imagine such a thing.
I have lived on fewer than 800 calories a day for the past 20 years, and even I can only get a size 0 as far as my knees.
A week or so ago, I interviewed Paige Adams-Geller, a former model who now designs her own range of jeans, and who happens to have a shop in Beverly Hills.
"If someone comes into my store and asks for a UK size 10, I flip cartwheels," she said. "But most women in the business in LA are a zero, or if they are size 2 they are deeply ashamed.