Prada, apps, grammar and meeting the lovely Kate Moss

At the age of 30, I’m contemplating retirement. My career, you see, has reached its peak.

It all began with a lunch invitation. The venue was The Ivy. The host was Kate Moss. You might think, given my line of work (I get paid a wage for looking at dresses) that such an offer would be met with an eye roll. And it was.

“Will she really show up?” I asked my friend Barb as we were shepherded into a glass lift, our hearts brimming with well-earned pessimism. “I’ll eat my Ted Baker panama hat if she does,” she replied.

Fast forward two hours and a large glass of Dutch courage, and there she was, the woman I’d spent two decades of my life in awe of, clad in black Prada and sitting less than a metre away. Moss, who had it seemed invited more than just me and Barb to this shindig (the cheek of it), shot the breeze with Sadie Frost, Pixie Geldof, Nick Grimshaw and the resplendent Fran Cutler while dining on a hearty lunch of prawn cocktail and rib of beef.

“Did she expect me to speak to her?” I thought, suddenly alarmed as Moss, notorious for saying nothing, cast her gaze in my direction with a smile. “I love your dress,” I said quietly. “Is it this season?” Kate had no idea. Over the few minutes that followed (I’d say there were seven in total), I learned a lot. Some of which surprised me.

Kate Moss loves grammar, in fact she’s apparently a stickler for it, and would rather make a call than text. Her favourite phone app is Dumb Ways to Die — “it is totally addictive” — but she isn’t so hot on Instagram — “all my followers are kids”. Moss, who carried her iPhone in one of her Carphone Warehouse designs, isn’t in the habit of taking selfies but she did take the time to pose for one with me. That’s one for the grandkids.