Laurelle Gilbert

Usually I spend a lot of time persuading people that the life of a fashion editor is not as glamorous as it sounds and my time at work is not actually spent on an endless merry-go-round of lunches, spa trips and jetting off to Milan. But yesterday I did get to spend one and half blissfull hours (Dear Ed. Thank you for letting me leave my desk) lunching at The Wallace Collection in London with Brit designer Osman Yousefzada. We sat in the conservatory and discussed everything from the Middle East crisis to Marc Jacobs over cod (me) and lamb chops (him!). As the sun streamed in through the glass roof of the restaurant and we tried to identify which of the ladies who were lunching had had Botox I thought…wouldn’t it be nice if everyday could be like this.

And that blissed out feeling last about 30 more seconds before I found myself on all fours in the road on Oxford Street with a bus coming towards me.

The flap of my flared wide leg jeans got caught under my too high for work wedges and I went flying, in front of on coming traffic.

I now have two knee’s blacker than next season’s YSL…