Considering that printed material is taking a hard rap in recent times, I thought I would take a moment to defend these lovely “creatures”, these purveyors of words, of stories and memories. Everyday brings a new online magazine, a new web or blog where it its possible to discover new information updated practically to the second. This is all very good and nice, but where is the magic?

The current attention span has dwindled to mere seconds, clicking away to achieve an information or visual high that lasts until the next page pops up on screen. Not to mention devices that are becoming part and parcel of daily life, such as Kindles, E-books and others. What necessity do I have to carry a technological gadget that can store 5.000 books? When would I even need 5.000 novels? When going on holiday, one of the biggest pleasures is to pick out a gorgeous, promising book, which is usually started on the airplane and then relegated to the suitcase as there is so much to see and do once I have arrived at my destination. The delicious part is knowing that when I get back, I’ll be able to continue with that book.

My small attic flat is overrun with books and I like that fact very much. One can never have enough books, just like clothes, shoes and bags. A book asks for attention, cries out “slow down, spend some time with me and relax”. Some of my earliest memories revolve around stories, first read to me by my parents and then voraciously by myself when that great moment arrived where I was able to sound out each word. Reading a book fills my soul, the words fill my mouth like the most luscious piece of cake.

Books accompany us in many areas of our life. The lines and paragraphs snatched while travelling on the subway. Sumptuous cook books, filled with mouth-watering photos, begging to be splashed by mistake with ingredients during the process of whipping up tasty morsels. Poems read aloud at night to loved ones in bed. Thrillers and terror stories that musn’t be read after the sun goes down or one is in for a sleepless night.

Not to forget, the perfect smells that emanate from different types of books. The library book smell, the new book, the borrowed book, the second-hand book. The smell of bookshops. Who can resist sticking their nose into a brand-new book and taking a deep, heady breath? But books are not the only printed elements that seem to have a threatened future. Magazines are struggling to compete against the new technologies but there is no competition for me. There is nothing like receiving a new magazine in the mail, perusing the glossy pages, reading the new edition from cover to cover. My ever-growing stacks of Vogues, never to be thrown away, will someday probably need an extra room all to themselves.

It seems that it is becoming harder to remember and focus on the simple pleasures in life. The easy complicity of spending a Sunday morning with the newspaper, crumbs falling on the paper, the rustle of the pages turning, the black prints on your fingertips. I’m firmly standing by my printed friends and hoping that I won’t ever have to see them disappear.

What to do when a concept is good but reality falls flat? For the final presentation of the Elisava’s Fashion Design Master, the students took to the street and presented their collections through performances.

The Ramblas at 19:00 on a Friday evening is packed with people, which I suppose caused greater impact. Fashion shows are already filled with people; having to factor in jostling for elbow room on the street was just plain complicated.

Confusing to say the least, it was such a pity that a great concept, bringing fashion on to the street, quickly become quite chaotic. After all the hard work that each student had placed on each of their garments, the minimum to be expected, would be to view with pleasure the end results. Elisava has great spaces within the building, not to mention a plaza upon their doorstep, which probably would have been more appropriate.

The high point of the event was seeing Diane Pernet of the renown, A Shaded View of Fashion. Even she was having a bit of a tough time with the crowds of people characteristic to Las Ramblas. I soon decided to make a run for it as I was tired for fighting for elbow space. Kudos for the great concept but a little more thought has to go into the realization so as to gain a much greater impact and give the students the much needed, appropriate “take off” that they deserve.

Justice has played its’ due part and Manuel Bolaño has walked away with the 080 prize for his womens’ collection. A big round of applause, he definitely deserved it!

Without a doubt, the best catwalk show so far during this 6th edition of 080 Barcelona Fashion Week has been Manuel Bolaño’s collection. Not only were each of creations absolutely divine, but the strategic use of the runway heightened the viewing experience.

Titled “Algo de Mí, (A Little About Me), Bolaño delved into his memories and came up with an armful of inspiration. Summers spent with his grandmother, a house in a country village, the white walls of said house that would dazzle his eyes, blended with the shimmering blue of the swimming pool in the yard. Sunday mornings were spent going to mass and the young Manuel remembers the gold leaf of the icons and statues, the cloying smell of the wax candles and wafting away to an imaginary world. An almost tangible earning for days gone by, the designer infused his garments with bits and pieces of his memory and large doses of imagination.

Each of the models looked like princess warriors, superhuman beings from another planet or time frame. The blend of baroque detailing, fabrics and textures mixed with sci-fi elements and space-age futurisms was positively intoxicating. A subtle religious undercurrent, a wink to those Sundays spent at church, a golden veil here, headgear reminiscent of virgins.

The contrast of proportions was devastatingly lovely. Here a wool bodysuit accompanied by almost childish, cream tights. Then a dress with octopus-like tentacles, swarming over the shoulders or hips, circling the body and entrapping. Drapings and ruffles, layers and ruching. Bolaño works his fabric like a dream.

The colours, the fabrics, the models, the music, the details and accessories. I am a lost cause when it comes to Bolaño’s designs. I would wear every single one of his pieces with pride. I very much wish and hope and cross my fingers that Manuel will take home the grand prize of this S/S 2011 edition of 080 Barcelona Fashion Week.

What a pity to have scheduled the first catwalk show of the second day of 080 Barcelona Fashion at 12:00 noon. Empty seats were painfully evident, which is everyone’s loss, as Bibian Blue pulled out all the stops with her newest collection of lingerie.

Titled “Lovelace Boudoir”, the collection is a lush and juicy journey through past eras, from Edwardian and Victorian corsets to nightdresses of the 20s. Lace, tulle, embroidery, and feathers were just a few of the materials on display. The show was divided into two parts, starting with structured garments, contrasting textures and a game of hide-and-seek, where skin was the key player.

Midway through the show, a haunting voice rang out. A lavishly attired opera singer floated along the catwalk, singing magnificently and was a sight to behold. After an enthusiastic round of applause, the second half concentrated on a more romantic concept, with an abundance of flowers and bows. Delicate, sweet, sexy, each of the pieces were a crafted piece of fashion art.

Skin art in the form of painted-on lace tattoos, adorned arms, shoulders and necks, looking almost like jewelery, gloves and collars. For some this may seem as an overload of visual information, but each detail is placed carefully, each tier of ruffled lace has its purpose and meaning. This was a collection to delight the senses and it felt like each of the garments could almost be tasted. The mouth-watering colours heightened the flavours: strawberry reds, oozing caramels, crushed blueberries, wine red, cupcake pinks. Enough to leave one with a growling stomach.

The day continued with collections from Krizia Robustella, Yiorgos Eleftheriades, Alexis Reyna, Juun. J and Manuel Bolaño.