It’s Caroline Paris’s third time at London Fashion Week and her first at the Milan equivalent. She reports about spellbinding shows, midnight snacks and senseless commutes.

I started covering international fashion weeks last year, on a random whim after attending a few events at AltaRoma. I decided to buy a plane ticket to London, apply for press accreditation and send a few emails requesting invites to shows.

When that trip proved fruitful, I repeated the experience last February and added on another destination - Milan. This season, I was very tempted to add on Paris, but that would be a whole other seven days and I’m not really sure how to plan and handle a 17-day fashion trip.

A part of me desperately wants to do it, and another (more sensible) part of me thinks I’d better have a few more 11-day seasons under my belt before attempting more.

Covering fashion week is, quite frankly, exhausting. There’s the pain in your feet, the dark circles under your eyes due to lack of sleep, the malnourishment from not having time to eat throughout the day and resorting to whatever was open at midnight… None of this is in any way glamorous or fun.

However, these feelings are only there at night - when the adrenaline won’t let you sleep or when you force your eyes to remain open so you can finish off that article, or when each morning you stare bleary-eyed at your invites, trying to make sense of the schedule.

As soon as you walk out of the door, the minute you arrive at your first show, the adrenaline is back in full force and you’re gearing to go.

Those days of non-stop fashion shows and presentations don’t seem endless, but thrilling

In London, the endless supply of free coconut water tends to help and, in Milan, the free delicious food available at the press lounge is a blessing – when you find time to go for it that is.

Although this was my third time at London Fashion Week, there were still a certain number of firsts. It was the first time that I gained access backstage at important shows, namely Jean Pierre Braganza and Giles Deacon.

Caroline Paris

Watching the large team at work – with, sometimes, two or three people working on the same model – is very interesting. One can almost liken the smoothness of the operation to that of a Formula One pit stop.

At Giles Deacon, nearly all the current supermodels walked the catwalk, so being backstage amongst them was even more surreal. I also watched his show for the first time and his creations are spell-binding – such elegance and beauty in a dress. It was also the first time that it actually rained all day long. I had always wondered how one would tackle fashion week in the rain and now I know a – with a lot of hassle, cursing the moment you decided to wear heels and hating the traffic that’s making you late for your next show.

One major problem in London is that the schedule location plan makes literally no sense. You leave one part of central London and travel 30 minutes away, only to have to return to the previous area right after. I think it’s a plot to ensure everyone takes in all the obvious sights.

I flew to Milan straight away from London and arrived late in the evening. Upon landing, I was happily greeted by a rush of warm air, only to wake up the next morning to what felt like a tornado and a never ending torrent of rain.

Thankfully, it only lasted one day, given that walking around Milan is part and parcel of attending fashion week there. The pavements and streets are already hard enough to walk on, rain just makes it all the more complicated.

Since this was my second time covering Milan Fashion Week, I already knew the lay of the land and found it much easier this time round. My knowledge of the Italian language isn’t that great and it can sometimes make me feel a bit isolated, especially around Milan’s somewhat snobbish fashion insiders.

As soon as you walk out of the door, the minute you arrive at your first show, the adrenaline is back

What never fails to impress me in Milan is the flock around the show entrance. In London, ticket holders simply queue politely and quietly in an orderly line until the doors are open.

In Milan, in typical Italian fashion, everyone pushes and shoves each other, trying to get past, yelling at PR agents, showing them emails on phones and just causing a whole lot of commotion.

And if you want to get into the show, most times you have to join the crowd and be ready to push with the best of them.

Another amusing fact is that a ‘big’ show can literally congest traffic for up to about four blocks. Private cars all attempt to drop off their guests right outside the entrance, street style stars and photographers think that the street is a great place to get photographed and the public blocks every passage way by just standing there, awaiting the stars’ arrival.

Imagine the being stuck in one of these traffic jams without being in any way involved in fashion week - frustrating is an understatement.

But of course, if you love fashion, fashion week is not just something you enjoy but something you live for. Those days of non-stop fashion shows and presentations, from morning till evening don’t seem endless, but thrilling.

To give a bit of perspective, up until three hours before my plane back to Malta from Milan, I was sitting in the audience watching a show. And now having only been back for two days, I’m already looking at the dates for next February.