Was in the Miu Miu superstore yesterday and the day before buying heels for my best pal Stretch's fiance Martha. The shop has a bank vault theme, realised through Miu Miu's unique retro style prism. I love the Miu Miu shop, and buying heels in there. Reckon am on pair number six or seven since 2003. Not bad for a non-cross dresser. Each pair a different scenario, girl and set of memories. They don't do men's anymore, which is a shame.

I vividly remember the men's first collection, and had two items from it. A pared down grey 'dress' shirt, that was basically a fitted plain shirt with just  a minimised, inch wide ruff down one side of the button placket and some very narrow black pants. I remember it particularly clearly as wore it to a really naff cover shoot from back in the Nineties. A day that went on to be rather varied/colourful. Geri Halliwell had refused to pose for Terry O'Neil with the dobermans we'd borrowed, or to wear the Thierry Mugler I had in mind for her. Instead she wished to look like Audrey Hepburn in Funny Face.

Tricky Geri, tricky. Most of the girls working in Miu Miu actually are channelling Auds to some sort of effect. They look delightful. Not so Old Spice am afraid. Anyway, that evening, arrived late at Grosvenor House for the IPC Magazine award do. Already into the swing of the party atmosphere I won the award for best section or something*. Naturally went quite mental, and our three tables set about upping the tempo, especially when the party began. Spirits were high, shall we say.

It's a big place Grosvenor House, and when The Balearic Russian, Rowan, and I orchestrated a stage invasion direct from the dance floor by mounting and actively encouraging other revellers up onto the stage, a special snatch squad of bouncers was dispatched to neutralise the ring leader. Which was me. I've never been 'bounced' in quite such a hearty manner either before or after that night.

Having put me in a flying double arm-lock, they opened the first set of double doors with my head. Vintage stuff. I had to admire the style, even from my position. Luckily Rowan was in pursuit, and flung himself into the melee, confusing the enforcers with sheer camp bravado. They left us on Park Lane to 'Cool Down' for a bit. When we'd stopped laughing we made plans to repair to the fashionable Met Bar further down Park Lane.

The whole crew came, and by the time we were ensconced in this citadel of Nineties naffness I was feeling no pain or inhibition to my celebrations whatsoever. Not even when members of two of the UK's leading soap operas vigorously protested at our jubilation. Even Radio One's Sara Cox's pleas were ignored. In fact they got both barrels of style spleen and sneer.

For the second time that evening a security death unit was deployed against me, but this round I was not to be man handled quite so easily. I vaguely remember jumping from table top to table top, and along the back booths to evade the clumsy door chumps, quite like a comedy Western, Holden later informed me. It's surprising how long you can avoid be nabbed if you truly put your mind to it.

Finally captured, Holden's counsel was to not struggle, but I couldn't help it, and Holden received a clump from security in the chaotic scene that ensued. Held above bouncer head height in crucifix position, I was carried from the bar. This time they just sarcastically threw me down the steps. Fair enough. Lying on Park Lane, again, looking up at the sky, I clearly remember feeling utterly content.

My Miu Miu outfit however was now more Robinson Crusoe than Autumn/Winter Cruise collection. Shredded, torn and with quite a few wounds now showing. Occupational hazard of those times. Afraid to say no longer have the relics, only the cherished memories.

The next morning I headed straight to the work pub for first orders and waited for the crew, this time wearing a midnight blue Prada shell suit, which still have.

I seemed to have digressed. Ah yes, the Miu Miu packaging is smashing too, isnt it? These are for Martha's wedding outfit. An occasion that is set to prove far more dignified than Miu Miu capers have just been recalling. Although with a high McLellan (groom's family) quotient, anything, as they say, could happen.

TS out.

* The fashion section that won the award comprised of two main fashion shoots by JW and me. One was terrace cache lables shot on Chicano gang bangers, juxtaposed with a swimwear story shot on two stylish male L.A pensioners entitled 'Mutton Dressed As Lamb'.  What could they do, but give us the prize?

These are JW's new curtains. V.Miu Miu, no?