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Imagine how thrilled the pretty, young model must have felt on hearing she'd been optioned by Alexander McQueen. His runway spectacles have become such a highlight of each London Fashion Week - the one show which everyone wants to see, the one show in which every model wants to be seen. From greatest to least, everyone in the fashion firmament is prepared to struggle past the scrum of the excluded and uninvited and wrestle through the pig-pen-like security cordon, before squeezing into a tiny tip-up plastic seat inside an ice-cold warehouse building.
And no wonder. For the clothes are sure to be sensational. The set will be lavish. The atmosphere will be electric. And international coverage will reach saturation level. Can there be a better break in any youngster's bid for runway stardom?
Little Miss Model would have arrived at the venue two or three hours before the show was due to start, in order that McQueen's make- up artists and hairdressers might have time to weave their magical spell. But, then things started to go horribly wrong: a pure white pan-stick base, clown mouth and eyes, one of those half-bald-half-...