After a rather too raucous Thursday night spent eating seafood and drinking white wine at home with Gevi and friends, we got up to a freezing cold Friday morning and set off to Olympia to build the Urban Knit Pure stand.

what a mess

We’d spent three or four hours wrestling with 8ft long canvases and giant trees made of oversized knitted yarn all I could see was a mess – a beautiful, colourful mess, but a mess still the same. With the boss visiting in just  a few hours and only weak coffee and Swiss chocolate to sustain us, Gevi and I began to panic. Apparently this is all we needed and soon, as if by magic, the most perfect stand emerged from the untidy heap of materials.

And boy, did it look good. The boss was impressed, Gevi was happy, and I was delighted to see all the individual products I’ve spent months designing sit side-by-side within this urban forest of metal and wool.

looking good

That night we went home tired and to early night, in preparation for the next day, when the rest of the Urban Knit gang would be joining us to face the general public…

This morning I drove my little Fiat to the airport, to pick up Gervais (the Swiss designer) who has been bombarding me all week with photos, sketches, ideas, jokes and completely insane Skype chats.

(my living room has been Gervais-ed)

He brought with him the ceiling-to-floor canvas prints of the latest Urban Knit catalogue shoot – featuring two gorgeous models (another plus to adding the menswear range!) They look fantastic – the rich, jewel colours and oversized yarns of A/W 2012 look like abstract paintings when blown up this big.

This afternoon its back in the car, as I drive Gervais round London to pick up last minute props – wool, wood, tools, wine – for tomorrow’s day of building…

Gervais's handiwork

I’ve just come back from Basel in Switzerland, where Gervais Lardon a brilliant and crazy designer has been showing me the Urban Knit stand he is working on for the Pure design show in February.

It is brilliant – lots of  metal and exposed wood, which gives the whole thing a rusty, salvaged look. The frames can all be moved around and reorganised, with a every part perfect for displaying the socks.

My favourite bit is how fabric is going to be incorporated- all the chairs are covered in knitted wool and the backdrop is made from enlarged photo images printed onto fabric samples.

I can’t wait, this year Urban Knit is definitely going to set the bar!

Never has January been so great. Blues free, sunny, fun even. This may have something to do with the decision not to make any negative resolutions this year. Less of the “drink less wine”, more of the “have more fun”. Which is why, yesterday, I found myself driving to Margate.

The Kentish coast was drenched in a luxuriously frozen sunlight, which made even the seediest of seaside towns breathtaking. Wrapped in an Urban Knit-ted scarf and fur lined coat I walked along the deserted bay trying to open my Australian companion’s eyes to the beauty of a truly British beach.

There was something a bit magic about sitting on a on a freezing wall watching the grey waves crash onto the sharp, sodden shoreline – shivering in the sun as we tucked into a (definitely not detox) box from Paul’s Fish Factory.

Of course it can’t all be one big nostalgic postcard, and so we dutifully went to check out the new Turner Gallery, right by the sea’s edge. However, leaving London on a whim meant i wasn’t to know that there was only one exhibit on show this unusually sunny Sunday. But what cold be more perfect than watching the Margate sun set over Rodin’s Kiss?

Forget London’s club scene, next weekend I’m going to Bognor Regis. Who knew that the dreariest month could be so wholesomely fun?

Of course being an international designer and travelling with the Chairman did have some benefits. I got upgraded to business class on my flight out there – the plentiful champagne made the fact that John Cleese was sitting behind me all the more delightful.  We landed in the dark (natch) and jumped in a cab to Oslo, racking up a hefty 1200kr bill. Seeing the shock on my face the boss was quick tell me that this is normal and my wallet would be distinctly lighter by the end of the trip. Expenses account, what?

I picked the Hotel Grims Grenka for its stylish interior and close location to the shops – and of course that it was featured in Wallpaper*. But nowhere in the article was there mention of the extra-curricular activities happening outside the hotel. My friend Jimmy Adams, man-about-Oslo and designer extraordinaire, delighted in telling me and the boss that Grims Grenka becomes the big party place at weekends for the young and rich to misbehave, and those pretty ladies outside were not paying guest, if you know what I mean.. Oh well, a bit of spice never harms.

New in town, we asked the hotel for some food guidance – they recommend Café Kristen,  a cavernous den filled with the owner’s weird collections of toys dolls, medals, badges , tools, animals, glasses and much to my delight, KNITWEAR! A lovely boy (one perk of Oslo – all bar and hotel staff are Swedish) recommended the traditional Norwegian Christmas fare. First course we had lovely gravalax salmon. The boss then had lamb’s rib – thankfully, after I persuaded him not to touch the sheep’s head – and I had Lutefisk. For those of you uninitiated with the, ahem, finer points of Norwegian cuisine, Lutefisk is the most disturbing fish I have ever tasted. It has the consistency of gelatin and as I later found out, no Norwegian would ever eat it. If I’d read my travel guide on the plane, instead of trying to sneak glances at John Cleese, I would have been warned: “Anyone trying Lutefisk for the first time had better be insane, or just very hungry.” I think I must’ve been both.

Next day was shopping day; after a (thankfully) fish-free breakfast we set out to see what Oslo had to offer our style-hungry eyes.  It was interesting, but not overwhelmingly inspiring. However, I stumbled across some fabulous second-hand shops, selling the only cheap things in Oslo – some really great condition fur coats ranging from £50 to £150, and great knitted sweaters.

Ager shopping mall was very sophisticated, but a bit pedestrian – you’ve seen one mall, you’ve seen them all. Moods of Norway – “Happy Clothes for Happy People” – is great concept brand started by three young Norwegians guys, now with their own concession in Bloomingdales. The story goes that they were visiting their grandma on her farm and started to discuss how they could create the mood of Norway. Taking the tractor as symbolic, cultural design point they have designed a range of very hip clothing, with a cult following across Norway and worldwide. Freudian Kicks was another great find – not just a clothes store, it regularly hosts club nights, art exhibitions and private parties. Though the clothes were mainly casual street wear concessions of the like found in Selfridges, the space itself was incredibly inspiring – located in a district surrounded by galleries and studios, this urban boutique is more like an art gallery than clothing store.

Walking along the distinctly snow-less streets, I felt cheated that I hadn’t had the chance to wear my perfectly planned fur-lined, sheepskin-trimmed, bobble-hatted outfits. For the first November in many years Oslo is warm – not a good thing, telling by the hoards of unhappy Nordic faces.

We met up with Jimmy that evening for drinks and then dinner at Mares – his best friend’s restaurant. A fabulous Frenchman and food to die for: Cassoulet for the boss and  fish for me. We were entertained by Jimmy and his friend Alex, who is opening a French bakery. They gave us a lowdown on the dark side of Norway, not seen by visitors. In a nutshell: lots of very, very rich spoilt young people with a monumental sense of entitlement combined with an establishment power elite that control everything (not too difficult in a country of five million). Worryingly, there has been a very sharp increase in rapes in Oslo with very low detection. The far-right have thankfully lost popularity since this years madman’s slaying, but apparently, things are far from good.

The next day we took a charming train to Fredrikstaad to meet our lovely distributor and his team. Following a great presentation on my behalf (pat on the back from the boss), I could finally relax, and spent our last night celebrating. We had dinner at a very busy Pizza East style place down by the sea – with lots of wine, a sensational seafood salad (up yours Lutefisk) and pasta to die for.

Verdict: It was a great experience seeing the Scandinavian side of life, but I have to admit, Oslo is not the most uplifting places I’ve been. Driving back from the airport, as the winter sun settled over London, I was glad to be home.

the old

Tonight the brilliant Danish crime thriller The Killing will finally return to our TVs. For those of you who have never seen it, The Killing, or Forbrydelsen, is the best thing to come out of Denmark since, well, ever.

The gripping first series has two stars; the decisive, reckless female detective Sarah Lund. And the now infamous Faroese sweater. Without fail it would appear in every episode – whether Lund was digging around for human remains or having a glass of wine with a prestigious politician, the sweater was her dependable side-kick.

The soft, woollen texture and homely pattern of this particular piece of knitwear was noticed by everyone who became obsessed with the show, and soon took centre stage of every interview.

the new

“I love that sweater and I hate it. I felt it was so strong it was almost wearing me, rather than the opposite,” admitted Sofie Gråbøl, who plays the single-minded detective in the programme.

For those of you who are eagerly anticipating the start of Lund’s second adventure tonight, be warned, the sweater has been replaced. The cream and black banded pattern is nowhere to be seen, and instead Lund strides about in a festive, bright red number.

But don’t worry, it doesn’t last for long.

The new series sees Lund, her life destroyed after the Nanna Birk Larsen case of Forbrydelsen I, working on an investigation that involves national politics, the military and Islamist terrorism. And soon into filming Gråbøl realised that she, as much as the audience, were missing the old sweater.

“I feel at home in that jumper,” she jokes.

Devon's burning

I barely had a chance to unpack from Istanbul before I was off again – to Waterloo station and to catch a train to Devon. An old university friend is from those parts and had been banging in about this fireworks night ritual that has been happening in the town of Ottery St Mary for decades.

Every year different groups of Ottery-born locals spend the evening carrying big burning barrels of tar around the village, whilst every else looks on drinking, dancing and avoiding combustion.

I wasn’t sure what to expect, but feeling adventurous from my recent travels decided to give it a go. After a delicious homemade curry in Charlie’s rambling house, a spot of X-factor and lots of delicious local cider we all piled into the back of a 1960s pick up truck and headed down a dark road to the flames.

As well as the being an exciting setting for these brilliantly Pagan festivities, the town became a catwalk for this season’s knitted trends. Fireworks night is the Autumn equivalent of the Summer’s music festivals – everyone was channeling their best “seasonal look” and accessorising to the max.

90s grunge was everywhere – Puffa jackets teamed with bobble hats and thick woollen tights worn with pretty dresses. I saw a girl wearing some amazing black wool and leather gloves with a fur cuff – a more subtle approach to the S&M look.

Fashion aside, it was a great evening. Dodgems, flaming tar barrels, cider and winter style. What more could you want?

It was wonderful to meet everyone and finally put faces to the voices I’ve been hearing for the past couple of years. I checked in with the bosses back home via Skype – giggling to myself the whole way through the conversation as they each put on their “telephone voices”.

the white tights

After an insanely strong coffee, lots of cigarette smoke and lively chat I was taken to the first of many factories.  I saw so many incredible samples that are already forming the basis of next year’s collections. I wanted to pocket the whole factory, but knew that my suitcase couldn’t hold all these socks and all the jewels, scarves and glass I planned on buying from the bazaars.  The factory owner seemed to read my mind and packed up all the samples to send back home that day. Lucky me!

Grabbing a quick and delicious lunch of grilled meat, salad and more flatbreads, we spent the rest of the day touring more hosiery factories. I’m so glad I keep getting sent on all these trips – I’m constantly learning more and more about the manufacturing process. Did you know all tights start off as white?? One thing I’m glad I don’t have more knowledge of though is the inside of yarn factories – after being inside for a while I felt like I’d swallowed a sheep as millions of small fibres made their way into my eyes, nose and mouth. Urgh.

Exhausted, I flopped back into Resul’s car and headed to the only place that could revive me foe the evening’s activities: The the hotel, for a quick rest before the evenings entertainment…

the Blue Mosque and Agia Sofia at night

I first came to the city a few years ago, and fell in love with the living history of the Old Town, the all-night roof parties in Taxim and the warmth and energy of everyone I met. This time it is Urban Knit work that has brought me to the city of seven towns, and once again, I immediately feel at home. Not only do I now have the brilliant Resul to act as my chauffeur and translator but I finally get to meet the Turkish half of our Urban Knit family.

I arrived last night and was driven to my hotel in the old town of Sultanahmet. Driving through Istanbul is no easy task – there are more cars than road space, and the average speed is slower than me walking in heels. But to me, that didn’t matter. I was glad to be crawling along as it meant I got to see the whole city as we crossed the Bosphorous Bridge – a magical point, where Asia meets Europe.

My hotel is amazing – it used to be an old prison and is built around this beautiful courtyard in the centre of the old town. And I can see the Blue Mosque from my room! As soon as I arrived I made a beeline for the giant bathtub, and sat a while, sipping complimentary champagne and listening to the call to prayer and other end-of-day sounds coming from the bustle around me.

I had dinner with an old friend – someone who I haven’t seen since my last trip here – and spent the evening reminiscing and catching up. We had drinks and a mezze feast at a lovely rooftop restaurant by the Bosphorous. Sitting under the glowing heaters, with blankets to keep us warm, I asked myself why I had ever left this city…

I’d barely closed my eyes and it was time to wake up again; we were catching a flight to Wuxi in mainland China, to see another factory.

First off was a heavy-gauge factory, (yes, I had no idea either), and there were back-to-back meetings about the A/W 2012 collection. Again, we were shown so many incredible samples, and we developed some great ideas for the next collection.

It was so interesting for me to see this side of the business – my designs are just one tiny bit in the whole, worldwide production process. It makes a girl think…

"mmmmm"

As well as owning a successful factory our host also has a fantastic restaurant, which he took us to that night. We ate some deliciously fresh and simple food – hot radishes with prawns and mushrooms stuffed with fish – a million miles away from the Chinese food served back home.

how the magic happens

We spent the next couple of days travelling to factory after factory, taking in so much of the country and the textile trade on the way.  The highlight of the week was definitely when one factory owner arranged for a hand-knitter to come and sit with us for a while. It was incredible to see such amazing skills and attention to detail first-hand – it makes me feel a little guilty for all the hand-knitted elements I’ve added to next season’s designs!