Life and times Lisa Armstrong

The Telegraph’s fashion director reveals what goes on behind the Instagram scenes

Those pavement grilles in Milan are a stiletto graveyard

If at all possible, avoid the 09.20 ba flight from Heathrow to Milan on the fourth Wednesday of every february, and the 18.13 eurostar back from paris next Monday. It’s not that a plane-or train load of fashion journalists, buyers, editors, stylists and models is a rowdy demographic, but we sure hog those overhead lockers.

It’s fashion Month, and every cliché is true. Different outfits for each day, plus an evening change. ten pairs of shoes – some of them kitten heels, but not if you’ re planning on walking anywhere. those pavement grilles in Milan are a stiletto graveyard.

I used to have a formula: five tops to one bottom. but that’s out the window. I blame Instagram – the stars of social media dress like models (or how models look on the catwalk; off it, they tend to dress grunge), which has raised the an te for all concerned. trends can explode or implode overnight. Moral: pack backups.

and then there’ s the herding. one reason I didn’t panic the time I was kettle din 2010( long story, but I was on assignment for… Vogue) was that I’m used to being manhandled by bouncers, or caught in a crush trying to get into a hot show. the lighting outside doesn’t help. G lowering grey sky is dreadful, obviously. but sunny can be brutal, with every pore, stray hair and tideline winking at the people two centimetres from your nose. It’s like being in the middle of a Chuck Close.

bobbi brown to the rescue. ‘It’s spare laptops,’ I tell anyone eyeing my bulging cases. but it’s make-up brushes – brushes to apply, blend, blur, burnish… brushes, in short, to make it look as though you aren’t using any brushes.

one of the many perks of this job is being bombarded with new( ish) ideas. the downside is the confusion. ‘Is it me or is this hid?’ I Whatsapped there st of team Telegraph during one show. ‘It’s you,’ pinged back three replies. another agreed with me. one was lukewarm. In the constant rush to be on board with the new(ish), sometimes we do embrace the hideous. that’s ok. as long as we think we like it. It’s indecision that’s unforgivable.

Matters weren’t helped when, in the 10 hours between london and Milan fashion Weeks, some of the team got our colours‘ done’ by an analyst for a facebook live video. ‘If you tell me I can’t wear navy or ban red lipstick, I think I might cry ,’ It old the expert. You can guess the rest.

so now the plane is circling linate airport and tension is mounting. Whose luggage will be MIA this time? It happened to me once. I called t he lawyers at the paper to check the insurance situation. ‘Don’t worry,’ the lovely man on the other end of the phone soothed. ‘ You’re covered. Go for th to prada and kit yourself out.’

everyday I’m in touch with prs, designers and other journalists across the world. Internationalism Is Us. long may it continue. and thank God for bbc iplayer. after an intimate gathering for 600 with Donatella or a dispiriting bondage-themed show in a downtown-seoul car park, listening to the voices on Radio 4 is amazingly comforting. Clarrie Grundy’s in particular.

another perk? at a dinner hosted by erdem during london fashion Week, at the old selfridges Hotel (a derelict husk, a lt hough you’d never k now it from the elaborate table settings posted on Instagram), the conversation veered from oscar dresses and trump to turmeric and the balfour Declaration (I was sitting next to a descendant of its architect). Variety Is Us, too.