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It’s a bitterly cold, sunny morning in London and students are swarming like ants north of King’s Cross to Central Saint Martins for class. They’re rushing, perhaps because they’re fashion students, practising the art of being fashionably late. Or perhaps because it really is perishing. They are not dressed in tie-dye and baggy jumpers as you might expect arts students to be. No, you’d be forgiven for thinking they are off to a party, dressed to the nines in a multitude of directional outfits. Men experiment with drop-crotch trousers, tucked into…



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