These are the images from Wednesdays show that previewed on Vogue yesterday

A Provocative Temperley Portrait

ALTHOUGH photographer Matilda Temperley’s stylised, provocative portraiture may seem the opposite of the feminine and romantic design aesthetic of her sister, Alice Temperley, their work has more similarities than it might first seem.

Mr bendy preview. 

Mr bendy preview. 

Alice for Elle Spain

Temperley Hoarding with our AW images is up in Bruton Street and looking snazzy

Lovely Bendys 

I asked Quinn what his tattoos meant and he sent me this poem                                  DEATH OR GLORY The regiment of The Seventeenth Lancers have an Epic story, their cap badge and their motto is that of ‘DEATH OR GLORY’ The most infamous charge ever made was that of The Light Brigade Now I have their cap badge etched into my skin, no matter what this life throws at me I take it on the chin There is another reason why I wear it there, for it tells the story of how I became a Legionnaire                                                                                                                                  I had twin Sons but one had lost his brother so the three of us went to live in France, the homeland of the Mother We were riding our bikes on a fateful August day when a drunk driver put you in harms way He missed me and knocked into you, I felt so useless there was nothing I could do I carried your coffin as I did your twin brother nine years before; I had reached the limit of what any man could endure The drunk driver four weeks later to the court was brought; now it was time for justice or least that’s what we all thought I sat up in the gallery alone, my wife could not cope so she had stayed at home The drunk was given just seven years for the crime he had done, that wasn’t long enough for killing my Son So I jumped from the gallery and the drunk I did attack, I unleashed all my rage and held nothing back In a flurry of punches I hit him to the ground but I did not stop I let my punches pound Perhaps it was not right and my temper I should hold, but he killed my son, not quite twelve years old The drunk was in a coma and for the crime done five years in prison was option number one  So I chose four years in Legion as option number two and let out a cough - maybe I would die and get my head blown off So off to Libya with the legion I was sent and spent four years for my crime in that famous regiment Two medals I was awarded because the legion thought me brave but I just wanted to die and not the medals that they gave You see for the four long years I had spent it was on my own death that I was hell bent I paid the price for the crime I had done and now the time to leave the legion had come I returned to France, I was alone and walked to the Graveyard by now the family home One medal that the legion gave I buried deep in one son’s grave and in England soon the other will be buried with the brother.  While in the legion my pretty wife broken hearted took her own life, the kepi that was on my head is buried in her flowerbed She was a ‘princess in a world full of dragons’ and is always in my heart and forms a part of my ‘Body Art’ and is related to this story As for me unlike the regiment I found neither DEATH OR GLORY  The placement of my ink comes from deep within, no matter what life throws at me I take it on the chin    

I asked Quinn what his tattoos meant and he sent me this poem


                                 DEATH OR GLORY

The regiment of The Seventeenth Lancers have an Epic story, their cap badge and their motto is that of ‘DEATH OR GLORY’

The most infamous charge ever made was that of The Light Brigade

Now I have their cap badge etched into my skin, no matter what this life throws at me I take it on the chin

There is another reason why I wear it there, for it tells the story of how I became a Legionnaire                                                                                                                                 

I had twin Sons but one had lost his brother so the three of us went to live in France, the homeland of the Mother

We were riding our bikes on a fateful August day when a drunk driver put you in harms way

He missed me and knocked into you, I felt so useless there was nothing I could do

I carried your coffin as I did your twin brother nine years before; I had reached the limit of what any man could endure

The drunk driver four weeks later to the court was brought; now it was time for justice or least that’s what we all thought

I sat up in the gallery alone, my wife could not cope so she had stayed at home

The drunk was given just seven years for the crime he had done, that wasn’t long enough for killing my Son

So I jumped from the gallery and the drunk I did attack, I unleashed all my rage and held nothing back

In a flurry of punches I hit him to the ground but I did not stop I let my punches pound

Perhaps it was not right and my temper I should hold, but he killed my son, not quite twelve years old

The drunk was in a coma and for the crime done five years in prison was option number one 

So I chose four years in Legion as option number two and let out a cough - maybe I would die and get my head blown off

So off to Libya with the legion I was sent and spent four years for my crime in that famous regiment

Two medals I was awarded because the legion thought me brave but I just wanted to die and not the medals that they gave

You see for the four long years I had spent it was on my own death that I was hell bent

I paid the price for the crime I had done and now the time to leave the legion had come

I returned to France, I was alone and walked to the Graveyard by now the family home

One medal that the legion gave I buried deep in one son’s grave and in England soon the other will be buried with the brother. 

While in the legion my pretty wife broken hearted took her own life, the kepi that was on my head is buried in her flowerbed

She was a ‘princess in a world full of dragons’ and is always in my heart and forms a part of my ‘Body Art’ and is related to this story

As for me unlike the regiment I found neither DEATH OR GLORY 

The placement of my ink comes from deep within, no matter what life throws at me I take it on the chin