This book was thought of by Malcolm McLaren, the utter svengali as far as punk rock comes to mind; the man who at least orchestrated the Sex Pistols and Bow Wow Wow, and changed a bit of music history simply by being in the background.
I don't know how much of this story he really contributed to, but in Alan Moore's introduction - yes, there is one! - Moore claims that McLaren asked a comic store proprietor which artist is considered the best thing in comics, to which the young man answered "Alan Moore, left hand of God". Moore writes that if he ever should write an autobiography, this will be its title.
Speaking of God, it's suitable to have it in mind when thinking of the fashion industry: braggadocio, better-than-thou and unspoken rules and hierarchies. It's all in this book, wonderfully illustrated by Facundo Percio. I don't think I've ever seen computer-generated colours better used prior to this book.
This is a collection of 10 issues of a magazine that was supposed to be a film to begin with. Still, it's here as a graphic novel, one tome, and it's good. Despite the very sits-in-a-tower-ishness of the book, it's not hard to think of real-life examples that make it seem painfully real, e.g. the film "The September Issue" and Tim Gunn's "Gunn's Golden Rules: Life's Little Lessons for Making It Work", where very few people run the lives of many. And in this book, that's really the case, borderline on fascism; Moore admits that this book, much like his "V for Vendetta", is based in an England where Margaret Thatcher rules (or possibly John Major) and hence, the Dark Ages is still the case despite what some people may feel about it.
I shan't say much about the book's contents. A person is thrown into a hyper-superficial world where one creator runs The fashion house that rules, while people on the streets literally run hungry and amok; very French revolution. Or Britain under Thatcher, if you don't mind.
Percio's drawing is impeccable, and suits this book marvellously. Moore's writing is simple yet effective, and I have no qualms with envisioning the rôle of McLaren as the hurt man behind the mask, so to speak. All in all, enthralling and a philosophically simple, yet effective, read.