Falling apart is usually described as this one defining moment, yet most of the time it is a collection of them. Crying after a day at work. A series of small breakdowns we overlook. An anxiety attack in a moment where you are supposed to be enjoying yourself … until one day, boom, we crash.

I made my name as a street-style photographer in 2006, and four years later moved up the ranks to land in the front row, where the magic and the drama happens. It was quite a recognition and an achievement. Until then, my career had been “obscure illustrator with many different jobs to pay the rent”.

But almost every night of fashion week I