A cold night, a red carpet and a handful of the best talent the film industry has to offer, all dressed up and ready for the Bafta awards. Guardian fashion picks the stand-out dresses and suits

12 Years a Slave star opts for Christian Dior, while Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, who wore his-and-hers tuxedos to film awards ceremony

Twelve Years, to give the film its industry handle, made a triumphant showing on the Bafta red carpet as well as taking the best movie and best actor awards.

The two fashion moments of the night belonged to Lupita Nyong'o, a best supporting actress nominee for her role in 12 Years a Slave, who wore the standout frock – a statuesque Christian Dior in bold jade green – and power couple Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, who wore his-and-hers tuxedos to support the film, which Pitt produced.

Red-carpet fashion is a world caught in aspic, where little changes from decade to decade. The pale satin dress in which Jennifer Lawrence collected a best actress Oscar in 2013 is not so different from the one in which Grace Kelly collected hers in 1955.

So Angelina's choice of outfit – a custom-made Saint Laurent tuxedo – was a bold move which will reinforce her reputation as one of Hollywood's risk-takers.

The matching tuxedos were an interesting choice, also, in underscoring the Brangelina brand as being about them as a couple. These tuxedos – his by Valentino, hers by Saint Laurent – will knit the pair even closer together in the public imagination.

Meanwhile, Nyong'o's choice of dress signified a move from promising newcomer to bona fide star. No offbeat choice by an emerging designer for Nyong'o: rather, a strapless Dior gown, the gold standard of movie-star attire.

With the Baftas being held in the middle of London Fashion Week, the British fashion industry were looking for a strong showing on the red carpet. Jolie was not the only leading lady in trousers, with Ruth Wilson wearing a silver suit by Antonio Berardi.

Amy Adams wore Victoria Beckham, while Cate Blanchett wore Alexander McQueen – both floor-length and black – while Lily Allen chose a vivacious Vivienne Westwood gown and Sally Hawkins a graceful silver dress custom-made by Mulberry.

Live coverage of all the shows, trends, front row action and backstage gossip from the second day of LFW

Christopher Bailey and Christopher Kane reflect dramatic boardroom changes in their catwalk collections

The correlation between the economy and hemlines is still unproven, but at London fashion week the link between what happens in the boardroom and what happens on the catwalk has never been clearer.

The Burberry catwalk show, staged in a giant marquee in Hyde Park, is the linchpin of London fashion week. This was the first womenswear collection to be staged since October's shock announcement that the chief executive, Angela Ahrendts, was moving to Apple, and that her role would be inherited by designer Christopher Bailey, who now directs Burberry's business strategy as well as design. Bailey's Burberry, as expressed on the catwalk, is proving to have a more creative and sensitive soul than the Burberry of Bailey-and-Ahrendts. Power dressing is out and artistic temperament is in.

Last month Bailey cited the St Ives painters as inspiration for his menswear collection; this womenswear show was entitled "The Bloomsbury Girls", and drew in style and attitude on Charleston, the Sussex home of artists Vanessa Bell and Duncan Grant.

Bloomsbury has been a recurring Burberry reference over the Bailey years – the autumn 2009 collection was inspired by Virginia Woolf – but the connection is to be made official this autumn, when the fashion house will become patrons of Charleston, "to help protect the creative and cultural heritage … for the public".

Bailey said backstage that he wanted this collection to be "softer and gentler" than previous seasons: "At Charleston, they painted everything – bookcases, doors, fireplaces – and it has this beautiful effect, as if all these objects have a little bit of soul. That's what I wanted to capture, which is why we hand-painted everything – all the bags, all the shoes, all the coats."

Rich silk dresses with a vintage 1940s midi-length silhouette came in dusty pink and cinnamon, and were layered under leaf-printed blanket-wrap jackets or filmy organdy trench coats hand-painted with flowers, in the Charleston style. "We wanted shapes that felt emotive and joyous," said Bailey.

At Christopher Kane the reverberations of dramatic boardroom changes were felt on the catwalk in a very different way. With substantial investment from Kering, Kane's label is being scaled up, and a Mayfair store is due to open later this year. With investment comes a new focus on profitability and brand-building: witness the sudden abundance of handbags, traditional money-spinners of designer fashion, on the Christopher Kane catwalk this season.

This is not to say that joining the big time has made Kane bland. If anything, the scaling up of the brand brings the quirk at its core into sharper focus. On to a newly luxurious catwalk – double-breasted cashmere jackets, mink-trimmed coats, cocktail dresses with 40 layers of the most delicate organza – stomped shoes covered with ruched nylon which were "based on the clinical idea of covering your shoes, like in a hospital". Handbags in alligator and python were fastened with seatbelt buckles, a detail revived here from Kane's graduate collection, and henceforth given "house code" status. The subversive-sexy cocktail dresses Kane's customers love were more delicious than ever, with milkmaid ruffles in anorak nylon, or suggestively slick, wet-look lenticular lilies printed against petals of black organza. But the surprise standout was the tailoring: most of the audience left with a Kane winter coat inked on to their next-season shopping list.

Bailey and Kane have in common a laser-like precision which has the ability to make lesser talents look lazy and unfocused. So it was a testament to the deep bench of talent at London fashion week that several other names made their presence felt. Antonio Berardi impressed with immaculately tailored pieces which, the designer said, "will give a woman poise. I don't love stretch, I make dresses to sculpt."

The look is tough rather than prissy, but still glamorous. Step forward Cara Delevingne and the high-fashion tomboys

This London fashion week was billed as a festival of British glamour. With the Baftas falling slap bang in the middle of the catwalk schedule, the build-up buzz was about celebrating showstopping frocks, on the catwalk and the red carpet.

But life in London is never that predictable. It didn't quite turn out like that: Angelina Jolie ruled over the Bafta red carpet in a tuxedo trouser suit, and on the catwalk a new muse – the high-fashion tomboy – kicked the pastel-clad, ladylike look into touch. After seasons of ricocheting between oversexed party dresses and po-faced, white-shirted androgyny, fashion has hit upon a new look that feels right for now. It is tomboy rather than girly, but still glamorous; tough rather than prissy, but not grungey or scruffy. It is a graffiti-coloured fake-fur jacket or a metallic puffa, rather than a mink or a parka. It is a loose, calf-length skirt you can stride out in, rather than a pencil skirt or skinny jeans. It is a luxe rucksack, rather than a precious clutch or a courier-style cross-body bag.

Not only is the high-fashion tomboy walking the red carpet and the catwalk, she's also hanging out around the shows snapping pictures on her iPhone, and inside sitting in the front row.

Every other young woman within a 200-yard radius of the Somerset House courtyard this week was in a wool beanie hat, but with long, blow-dried, possibly slightly tonged hair carefully arranged underneath. That touch of flirtation and sex appeal is key: this is absolutely not about androgyny in a sexless way.

When Kate Moss rocked up at the Topshop show at the Tate Modern, she was working a similar vibe: a camouflage-print, olive-green silk jumpsuit, with heeled ankle boots and loose but glossy hair. Cara Delevingne, with her classic blonde good looks and her silly-face selfies, her designer wardrobe and her trainers, is the ultimate high-fashion-tomboy pinup, and her influence is ever more pervasive. Her high-jinks antics are compulsive click-bait on the gossip websites, so much so that the groomed-yummy-mummy-model-holds-hand-on-school-run paparazzi snap is dying a slow death in the shade. This season, Cara was commissioned by Mulberry to design a capsule collection of handbags. All three of the designs feature detachable rucksack straps, so that they can be worn as backpacks: a defiantly tomboy take on the It bag.

The tone of London fashion week was set by the two It boys, Christopher Kane and JW Anderson. Kane's woman has always been a tomboy at heart. Even in a mini dress, she'll wear clompy shoes or have scruffy hair. And the contrast isn't of the affected, let's-be-clever-and-put-an-arch-twist-on-everything school; it's more visceral and real than that, even when it's as bonkers as a nylon mac with a mink lining. The autumn collection served up cocktail frocks in slick, waterproof fabrics and fancy knits in highlighter-pen neons. Anderson, who began his career in menswear before embarking on womenswear, plays with androgyny in his designs for both sexes and his meteoric rise has pushed notions of boy-girl dressing on to fashion's agenda. This season, the womanly shape of long, fluted skirts contrasted with high collars and futuristic convex shapes worn on the top half.

The absence of decolletage is key with the new tomboy. Visible cleavage is becoming as outdated, and therefore as ageing, as overplucked eyebrows. At Eudon Choi, rollneck sweaters were worn underneath dresses, underneath sporty jackets, under fluffy evening coats. The tomboy's go-to outfit for autumn is a chunky top – sweater, bomber or biker jacket, or oversized tailoring – with a calf-length skirt. The midi-length skirt might seem counterintuitive as a tomboy piece, but it's the fact that it's not literal – that it's not about wearing dungarees and climbing trees – that makes the new tomboy a wearable look. At Jonathan Saunders, a calf-length skirt was worn with a biker jacket; at Richard Nicoll, it was paired with a simple knit; at Topshop, with a puffa jacket. Sporty shapes with a glamorous spin were a recurring motif: see Tom Ford's fabulous Jay-Z-riffing sequinned football shirts, and the fur jackets in boxy, linebacker shapes and garish, football-strip colours at the gorgeous Preen show.

Burberry's Bloomsbury girls, in their hand-painted silk and organdy, could hardly be called tomboys. And yet, there is a link. Christopher Bailey has had Bloomsbury on the mind on and off for several seasons, with this collection being the most explicit in its reference. The Bloomsbury set, with their interest in the notion of the androgynous mind, also played with androgyny in their dress. This season's tomboys – with their Pippi Longstocking catwalk plaits and their rediscovered enthusiasm for trainers – have more Cara Delevingne in the mix than Virginia Woolf. But still – as a trio of heroines, it's a moodboard no one would have predicted for red-carpet season.

Live coverage of all the shows, trends, front row action and backstage gossip from the foruth day of LFW

From ASOS to Somerset by Temperley and other brands, Jess Cartner-Morley shows us how ruffles can be part of our spring wardrobe

'A well-judged flourish adds a wink to your outfit'

Adding a ruffle to an outfit is like tying a ribbon around a box: it transforms your perception of what lies beneath. Effort has been invested into making this package appealing. To create a ruffle, you need to use more fabric than is strictly necessary, and that's the whole point. A ruffle is anti-utilitarian, which is why it is popular on the red carpet, where women are essentially gift-wrapped.

But the very attributes that make ruffles perfect for the red carpet make them tricky to wear in real life. Much of current style philosophy revolves around the virtues of sleekness and sharpness as a metaphor for modernity. Step back a few stilettoed paces from the seasonal call-and-response of trends, and the overall picture shows an increasing emphasis, over the past five years, on clean lines, sharp edges.

A thick, shiny back zip travelling straight as a die from neck to knee is the high street's go-to detail in the quest to modernise the day dress. The scoop neck has all but disappeared in favour of the clean, compass-drawn circles of a crew neck or the arrow-points of a shirt collar.

And yet frills and ruffles will never go away, because human nature yearns to be more than fit for purpose, and fashion reflects this. A ruffle suggests frivolity, gaiety, excitement; but also irrationality, whimsy, wilfulness. (Think of Scarlett O'Hara in her ivory frills.) The ideal ruffle, therefore, harnesses the frivolity-to-excitement element, while eliminating the irrationality.

The simplest way to ensure your ruffles are wearable is to approach them in a rational way. Don't pour them on all over: you are a grown woman getting dressed, not a five-year-old decorating a cupcake. One bold, surf's-up wave of a frill is easier to wear than a series of smaller ripples.

Use ruffles to break up the boring, not to make your whole outfit look busy. Black, white and electric blue are good colours in which to ruffle a few feathers. (Red is a bit flamenco.) A well-judged flourish adds a wink to your outfit; too much, and you start to look hysterical, in both senses of the word.

• Jess wears top, £29.99, mango.com. Skirt, from a selection, edelinelee.com. Courts, £175, russellandbromley.co.uk.

Stylist: Melanie Wilkinson. Hair and makeup: Sharon Ive at Carol Hayes Management.

From Jackson Pollock-influenced dresses to floral and colourful skirts and tops, Jess Cartner-Morley talks through a selection for your summer wardrobe

Belgian designer joins celebrities at autumn/winter collection show prior to exhibition at the Musée Des Arts Décoratifs

You can tell a lot about a fashion designer by the celebrities in their front row. When career provocateur Jeremy Scott made his debut at Moschino in Milan last week, his A-lister-on-call was Katy Perry, who kept the audience waiting almost an hour before holding up proceedings further by staging a photocall on the catwalk before the show. At Dries Van Noten, the first big-name show of Paris fashion week, the guest of honour was Thom Yorke of Radiohead, who arrived promptly, soberly dressed, and did not cause any discernible fracas.

Dries Van Noten is a brand for grown-ups, a name respected by connoisseurs. It is opulent, but not silly. It is a label worn by serious people – despite the sumptuousness of its fabrics and vibrancy of its colours. Van Noten himself is designer and chief executive of the company he founded, which has 470 stockists worldwide and an annual turnover of more than €50m. He still owns 100% of the company.

Van Noten is unusual in running a profitable fashion company that sells mostly clothes. This sounds counterintuitive, but for most brands the leap into profitability is made when the brand is well-known enough to start selling a high volume of accessories, which have high profit margins and which themselves function as mobile advertising campaigns for the label. Van Noten has built a successful label selling proper clothes to men and to women, while sticking to an old-fashioned business model – just two menswear and two womenswear collections a year, half of the number produced by most labels, and with a distinctly low-key brand of celebrity ambassador.

It is unlikely that Dries Van Noten will figure heavily in Sunday's Oscar red carpet. But the Belgian designer will have his name in lights in Paris on Saturday, when he becomes one of the few living fashion designers to be honoured with an exhibition at the Musée Des Arts Décoratifs, fashion branch of the Louvre. The exhibition, entitled Inspirations will display 180 pieces of Dries Van Noten clothing alongside the works that inspired them. These include Christian Dior, Balenciaga and Yves Saint Laurent pieces from the museum's archives; photography from Dries Van Noten's personal collection, and art on loan by John Singer Sargent, Francis Bacon and Damien Hirst among others.

The exhibition also includes video footage of the Indian embroiderers who have worked on Dries Van Noten collections since 1987. An obsession with textile runs through the label's 37 year history. The collection currently in store featured, in its catwalk showcase, a modern reproduction of a floral brocade found by Van Noten in the archives of the museum when he was researching his exhibition. He used the fabric inside out in some pieces, the better to celebrate the bundled threads of silk yarn that the designer felt expressed the craftmanship that lies at the heart of beautiful fabric.

"Unexpected elegance" was Van Noten's considered backstage soundbite, after the debut of his autumn 2014 collection in the majestic hall of the Hotel de Ville. "I was interested in moving between 2D and 3D, he said of clothes which featured hand-painted and woven poppies and ornamental three dimensional silk lilies. "I like the freedom of hand-painting against very controlled, graphic lines." Flowers are a recurring motif in Van Noten's work – he is a keen gardener – and for autumn, flag-width strips of vivid florals were alternated, circus-tent style, with solid sequins or matt jersey. A simple navy sweater with a spray of silver flowers woven over one shoulder looked likely to be a particularly winning piece.

The collection threw its weight behind a strongly emerging trend for next season, of a midi-length skirt worn with a sweater. A ribbed French navy jersey was teamed with a fluted calf-length skirt in stripes of petrol blue jersey and copper sequins, while a simple black wool T-shirt with gathered sleeves was teamed with a longer length pencil skirt in black and silver.

Alexander Wang's show at Paris label signals moves into Nicolas Ghesquière's territory with avant-garde collection

To put the significance of this Balenciaga catwalk show in context, try imagining it as the first leg of a double-header Champions League football fixture.

Balenciaga, perhaps the most elite and refined house in the history of Paris fashion, finds itself locked in battle – for cash and for glory – with Louis Vuitton, a name whose modern glamour and commercial muscle has succeeded in making a lack of couture pedigree irrelevant to the 21st-century customer.

Just one year ago, all eyes were on the Balenciaga debut of Alexander Wang, but that thunder has been well and truly stolen by next week's much-anticipated Louis Vuitton debut of Nicolas Ghesquière. It is an intriguing contest: Wang is an affable 30-year-old Californian who gets name-checked in Jay Z songs; Ghesquière is a 42-year-old Frenchman with an instinct for the pure lines of haute couture. Wang is openly commercial, Ghesquière fiercely avant-garde. Balenciaga is owned by the luxury group Kering; Louis Vuitton is the jewel in the crown of rivals LVMH.

Oh, and Ghesquière happens to be embroiled in a court case with his previous employers, a glorious 15-year run there having ended with such a spectacular falling out that the house is suing Ghesquière, their former creative director, for €7m (£5.7m). He is charged with breaking a contract not to speak negatively about the brand. And the name of that previous employer? Balenciaga.

The questions being asked of this Balenciaga collection were therefore a little more nuanced than: are the dresses pretty?

What was most striking about this Balenciaga show was that Wang, as it were, took the game to the opposition. He could have played it safe, aiming for a modest draw – he is, for all his success, a relatively inexperienced player in the fashion industry compared with Ghesquiere, whose very name makes fashion critics weak at the knees. Instead, he presented his punchiest collection yet.

Having begun at Balenciaga a year ago in a humble mood, with clothes that showcased a respectful study of the archives, Wang added a little more of his own personality for his second collection, with the introduction of American sportswear shapes. With this, his third collection, the ratio of Wang-to-Balenciaga content seemed to be approaching parity.

Backstage after the show, he told reporters that he "started with the idea of the sweater, because I noticed an absence of knitwear in the Balenciaga archives. And knitwear was where I started out in my own label, so I wanted to build that. I was thinking about how to bring the cosiness of knitwear together with Balenciaga, which has such rigour and perfection in its lines."

This was a collection asserting design intelligence and signalling brand ambition. When Wang says mildly he wanted to do knitwear, note that what this meant on the catwalk was a patent leather coat embossed to give a trompe l'oeil cable-knit effect, a modern take on chainmail, and Gisele Bündchen closing the show in a round-shouldered sweater with a necklace of crystals knitted into its structure. The codes of Balenciaga were celebrated in a series of exquisite cocoon-shaped coats, given a sports makeover with go-faster stripes of silver zips.

There was a futuristic slant to the presentation of the collection that suggests Wang is not prepared to cede any aesthetic ground to his predecessor.

Ghesquière's reign at Balenciaga was renowned for a sci-fi aesthetic, which had been nowhere in evidence during Wang's first two collections. But with Ghesquière back on the scene, Wang had the walls and floor of the Paris Observatory clad with matt silver panels, which emphasised the modern mood of the sleek high white polonecks, the boxing-leather gloves, and the bold zippered crosses stamped on coats and tunics.

In a direct opening shot at Vuitton, historically a luggage house, Balenciaga handbags were given top billing. Many models carried three bags: one leather, one fur, one crocodile, all in a simple tote shape with twisted steel-wire handles.

The stage is set for next week's fixture on Louis Vuitton home turf, half a mile away on the other side of the Seine.

'The most fashionable clothes of the summer look as if they could hang on a gallery wall, rather than in a wardrobe'

Is fashion art? The answer, definitively, is yes. Or at least, art is fashion. Well, OK, it is until July, when this season's trends reach their sell-by date. The most fashionable clothes of the summer look as if they could hang on a gallery wall, rather than in a wardrobe. Art is a good look right now.

It had to happen. At premier-league level, the worlds of art and fashion draw ever closer together. As the art world has become richer, it has become glossier. The Frieze art fair is wall-to-wall Céline and Dries inside, thronged with streetstyle photographers outside. Anna Wintour's latest power move on her road to becoming the aesthete empress of New York society has been to have a gallery named after her in the Metropolitan Museum.

Fashion has always taken cues from the art world, because in the fashion industry your clothes must demonstrate that you have taste. When the most high-profile public figures in the art world were curators, the traditional gallery-curator way of dressing – the art-school-meets-bluestocking vibe, dark colours, interesting jewellery, not much flesh – was mirrored on the front row of fashion shows, where layers of complicated black were a uniform for many years. As the public face of the art world has changed – Exhibit A: Dasha Zhukova– the front row has become more cocktail hour.

The new season's art-fashion is not about culture or understatement or any of the values that "arthouse" fashion (as opposed to the blockbuster commercial stuff) has traditionally represented. These clothes say: look at me. On the catwalk the clothes borrowed brush strokes, daubs and bold scribbles. Graffiti, cartoons, street art were namechecked by several designers. There is an enthusiastic energy about the colours, which are bright and primary, like unmixed smears on an artist's palette. This mood of immediacy, of play, makes the look more commercially accessible than arthouse fashion is when it is referencing the colours of Klimt or the lines of Brancusi.

At Chanel, in case anyone failed to grasp the message, clutch bags came in the shape of art portfolios. If that's not an It bag destined for Frieze, I don't know what is.

• Jess wears sweatshirt, £235, and skirt, £260, both by Cedric Charlier from net-a-porter.com. Courts, £175, russellandbromley.co.uk.

Stylist: Melanie Wilkinson. Hair and makeup: Sharon Ives at Carol Hayes Management.

The Guardian fashion team bring you the stars’ Oscar looks hot from the red carpet in LA – with commentary and pictures

Xan Brooks liveblogs the 2014 Oscars, including coverage of the red carpet and the 86th Academy Awards ceremony

The standout looks from the red carpet – rated and reviewed by the Guardian fashion team

Our Oscar nominations in the best accessory category go to …

The winners on the red carpet this year knew that personality trumps aloof glamour

The key to this year's red-carpet fashion was when Jennifer Lawrence fell over again. Because the smartest players, the ones who have the world at their feet – Lawrence, Lupita Nyong'o, Pharrell Williams – know that looking good on the red carpet is no longer enough. To win the red carpet in 2014, you need to upstage your outfit. After all, the photograph that these Oscars will be remembered for is not a red-carpet pose, but that mass selfie with Ellen, Bradley, Kevin and the gang. Aloof glamour just isn't box office.

Last year, Lawrence wore a grand, regal Dior gown, and everyone cooed a bit, and then she fell over in it and the J Law brand – the Gorgeous But Goofy Movie Star Who Could Be Your Real-life Bestie– was born. Lawrence has a contract with Dior, so she gets paid serious money to wear those pretty dresses, which is kind of lacking in charm. But she fell over, and her red-carpet story became adorable.

Then, she gets to the Oscars this year, and what's the first thing she does on the red carpet? Stumbles over. Now, I'm not saying she did it on purpose this time. She's a good actress, but I think that's really hard to fake. No, what I'm saying is that the girl is a natural-born modern movie star, and she has an instinct for how to win over an audience.

This year's red-carpet winners triumphed by making the story a personal one. When Nyong'o first appeared in her baby-blue Prada gown, I admit I was a tiny bit disappointed. I was hoping for a bit of fierce fashion action; something structured and bold by Alexander McQueen or Givenchy. Instead, here was this pale gown, which emphasised the fragility of her tiny frame, made her look young and vulnerable. But by the time the red-carpet interviews had finished, Nyong'o had done a neat job of communicating to the world's media how she had picked the colour she called "Nairobi blue" to remind her of that city, and how the tiny gold frog ring on her little finger was her family motif. Even before she stood up for her winning speech, she had sold Lupita Nyong'o The Hollywood Sweetheart to everyone watching.

And what was the best-dressed, most swooned-over man in the room wearing? A perfectly tailored, Bond-slick suit, as per usual? No. Pharrell Williams showed off his tattooed calves in a pair of shorts. Meanwhile, Emma Watson played down the va-va-voom and played up the cool young ingenue in a T-shirt neckline and subtle colours.

The rest of them? Well, they looked very glamorous. But those juiced-down glamazons – knees bent at the perfect angle, smouldering at the camera – look increasingly outdated. They have missed a crucial memo. Because the red carpet is less about the catwalk-ready pose and more about the photobomb (Anne Hathaway hijacking Jessica Biel's backstage selfie) or the cute gif (Lawrence falling, Williams and Nyong'o dancing). The days when the perfectly tailored dress could clinch the deal are over. A winning personal brand is what it takes to floor them. Even if you have to hit the deck to do it.

How I beat the dress code, took selfies on the red carpet and watched Jane Fonda dance to Chic

'Will I be arrested if I take this photo?" the journalist asked me as we stood in the rain on the red carpet, wet, miserable and yet desperate to record the moment. On the surface, this seemed a ridiculous question: to our right, photographers were snapping away with such ferocity that they sounded like deranged crickets. In front of us, and in front of the cameras, celebrities were taking selfies so as to tweet and Instagram images of themselves, capturing a tenth of a second of their lives that might otherwise have gone unrecorded.

And yet, the journalist's anxiety was understandable. Only four days earlier, we had gone on guided tours of the venue during which we informed in the strongest of terms that any photos taken without the Academy's express permission would result in us being thrown out of the event (nightmare) and having our phones confiscated (UNTHINKABLE). We had also been strictly informed that all women would have to wear full-length gowns.

"But I only brought a knee-length dress," I told the woman with the clipboard.

"Well, you'll have to get a new dress," she replied.

"I am not buying a new dress," I said.

"Fine," she replied with an exaggerated sigh. "Just wear tights. We don't want to see any knees on TV."

"How about if I get a burqa?" I asked. This question was described as "unhelpful".

Ultimately, though, my knees proved to be of less concern to the officials than the celebrities and it took only about five minutes for all of the journalists to decide that taking selfies, with the red carpet, giant golden Oscars and selfie-snapping celebrities in the background, was worth risking livelihoods and phones for. When the rain cleared, the entire press bank was filled with journalists grinning inanely into their own phones, like some deranged sequel to the film Her. Even leaving Ellen DeGeneres's sponsored selfie-ing aside, Oscars 2014 was truly the Oscars of the Selfie.

I'm not quite sure what I expected the Oscars red carpet to be like, but I know I didn't expect what it was like. For a start, the red carpet itself is tiny (the camera does indeed make everything look bigger), and the journalists on it, far from being cynical hacks, were more hysterical than the fans. When the celebrities turned up after three hours of waiting, the press pen was less like a professional venue and more like an evangelical church during a revival meeting.

"Brad! BRAD! Please look this way! Brad!"

"Meryl! You look amazing! Smile at me! MERYL!"

I was the only one who seemed to find this behaviour odd (Leonardo DiCaprio didn't even seem to notice the keening that greeted his arrival) and I swore that I would never be like this. What must it be like to spend your life being begged to turn around and acknowledge someone else's existence? No wonder celebrities all take selfies of themselves all day long, admiring and capturing their specialness for themselves.

Once Brangelina had gone past, there was a rush from the press pen to the press room inside as it was generally decided that there would be no one else worth seeing outside (actually, Matthew McConaughey and Julia Roberts had yet to come, but did either of them break Jennifer Aniston's heart? Ergo, not interested). So we headed up through the prosaic environs of a strip mall around the back of the theatre and into the press room, which was filled with hacks all desperately trying to find the Wi-Fi while at the same time eating enormous quantities of the free buffet food.

"Have you got Wi-Fi?"

"Where's the cheeseboard?"

"Is there any more shrimp?"

"Where's the Wi-Fi?"

All around the room giant screens showed the ceremony, but we hardly got to watch any of it because winners kept being ushered backstage to stand on a podium in front of us, like cattle up for auction, and endure that grand Oscars tradition of torture-by-inane-journalist-question. Each journalist wanted a special message to their country ("Will you ever work with a Chinese crew?" "Do you have a message to the Hispanic people?") and it was the rare question that didn't begin with the suggestion that the winner should somehow remember them ("Hi Cate, we met seven years ago at the Telluride festival …"). Invariably, all the winners were delightful – not least Jared Leto, who passed his Oscar round for all of us to hold – whereas the journalists all came across as faintly unhinged. Less surprisingly, Lupita Nyong'o stole the evening.

"How much of your triumph belongs to Mexico?" a Mexican journalist asked the Mexican-born actor.

"Er, I think it belongs to me!" Nyong'o replied.

After the Governor's Ball, it was time for the Vanity Fair party, which is, on the one hand, possibly the greatest branding achievement ever pulled off by a magazine, and, on the other, the only genuinely fun celebrity party I have ever attended. This year it doubled in size from the years before and as a result felt far more raucous. As I walked in, Jane Fonda (looking amazing) was dancing on her own to Chic's Le Freak, while, on my other side, a slew of celebrities who shall go unnamed were standing in packs beneath a heavy fog of marijuana smoke. Dazed from the fumes, I walked smack into an older gentleman only to realise it was, in fact, Bill Murray.

"Oh! Mr Murray – I'm sorry. I'm Hadley from the Guardian and – " I stammered pathetically.

"Oh, there, there. Nobody's perfect," he said, giving me a bear hug for a good (very good) 30 seconds.

Released from Peter Venkman's embrace, I headed towards the bar where I encountered possibly my favourite interviewee of all time, Steven Tyler.

"Um, Mr Tyler, I interviewed you last year –" I began, sounding just like all those journalists trying to remind Brad Pitt of that meaningful moment they had at Sundance.

"Of course you did," he croaked, leaning in to give me a massive kiss.

At this point I felt for my own well-being it was time to go home, only to trip over something on the floor. Turned out to be a bunch of Oscars for The Great Gatsby. Did I selfie myself with an Oscar? You bet your ass I did.

Black tights are chic, the Lego trend should be swerved, not all posh carpets are red – the lessons we learned from the Paris catwalks

1. The way you hold stuff is now a fashion consideration

If, in the past few seasons, we have seen bags scrunched, pinched and cuddled on the catwalk, Paris took the body language trend to the next level. Throwing your coat over one arm nonchalantly is now fashionable, thanks to Dior, while bags were nestled into hips at Céline and Maison Martin Margiela. The award for best use of body-part-as-accessory goes to Vanessa Bruno, though. Her shearling pockets on straps made excellent use of shoulders and created a whole new fashion item in the process.

2. It's not just about the red carpet this week

So the Oscars and that whole red-carpet thing happened on Sunday. Meanwhile, in Paris, designers had their own carpets to get excited about. Acne's were shaggy and dotted on the catwalk– the collection was partly inspired by 1960s interiors. The brand was clearly very proud of it and assigned a gentleman with a comb to keep it looking tip-top. Givenchy's champagne-coloured carpet was no less groomed; even Kanye West was careful to keep his feet away from its pristine pile. Céline, of course, threw a curve ball into the carpet trend: parquet flooring formed the catwalk at the Sunday show.

3. Supermodels are back on the catwalk

With Canadian super Daria Werbowy making a rare appearance on the Balenciaga catwalk last season, designer Alexander Wang gave himself a hard act to follow. He managed it by, presumably, paying Gisele a lot of money to close his show. This cameo by the world's most successful model started a trend for catwalk comebacks. Gemma Ward appeared at Chloé and Givenchy was star-studded. The label featured Stella Tennant, Karen Elson and Frankie Rayder, as well as debutantes including Kendall Jenner, who could learn a thing or two.

4. Asian celebrities are a major part of the front row

The usual flashbulbs that denote a celebrity were often met with blank faces in the UK press section this season. These days, brands are courting the Asian market, and it shows. Models Bonnie Chen and Tao – Chinese and Japanese respectively – were front row at Chloé, with Chen strategically photographed next to the chief executive, Geoffroy de la Bourdonnaye. Even Phoebe Philo – who doesn't play the front-row game – is making these connections. She was seen greeting the Chinese actor Faye Wong after the Céline show.

5. Models can't dance

Stella McCartney's finale featured Joan Smalls and Cara Delevingne dancing down the catwalk to the 1989 Soul II Soul classic Keep On Moving. It was a fashion moment, sure, but with lots of long limbs flying everywhere, the overall impression was a little gangly. Still, having the guts to do this at 10am in a room containing Anna Wintour, Rihanna and at least 200 photographers has to be applauded.

6. Make your knitwear ribbed next season

Basically, don't wear a jumper next winter unless it's ribbed. Chunky ribbed wool – the kind usually found on an army sweater with patches on the shoulders – was everywhere in Paris, though it usually came with a bit of a twist. Céline's was for the brave – ribbed tunics were paired with matching ribbed flares – while Acne's jumpers looked cosy with ultra-long sleeves. Japanese label Sacai mixed ribbed knits with a load of other stuff – chiffon, scarf prints, quilting and devore – giving the rest of us licence to do the same.

7. Raf Simons must have had a preview of the Tate Modern's Matisse Cut-Outs exhibition

Simons's lovely Dior show was a highlight of the week – partly due to colours that made one's heart sing. A series of layered dresses with two contrasting hues recalled the palette of Matisse, and the vast 1952 collage The Snail in particular. Fuschia, green, pumpkin orange and a bright blue were all used. To brush up on what shades you should be wearing, visit the Tate Modern's exhibition next month. We're pretty sure Simons already has.

8. The practical bag is back

Seriously cheering news from the Paris front line is that the jewel-box minaudière evening bag (subtext: "my driver's outside") and the sleek minimalist day clutch ("I am chic and streamlined in every possible way") are well and truly over. The most haute houses embraced the practical side of the handbag this week. At Chanel's supermodel-filled supermarket, Stella Tennant carried a wire shopping trolley decorated with strands of black glittered tweed, while the pensioner's-favourite wheeled shopping trolley had a Karl makeover in 2.55-style quilted leather. Lanvin gave the power-walk-to-work rucksack a luxe makeover in crocodile. Meanwhile, Balenciaga's girls carried not one but three bags, a look that us norms have been trailblazing for years. (Flat shoes, iPad, newspapers, gym kit, chargers, letters to post, drycleaning to drop off, am I right?)

9. Do not, repeat, do not invest in the Lego-colour trend

Every season there is a catwalk trend that the assembled audience of fashionables greet with enthusiasm – and then entirely ignore when it comes to buying and wearing clothes six months later. This spring, primary colours are that trend. The Lego movie may be a hit, but the trend for wearing traffic-light shades has stalled. The front row are wearing pastels (Rihanna was in lilac at Chanel) or neutrals (Kate Moss and co at Saint Laurent were head-to-toe black). On the catwalk, colour combinations are subtle with flashes of dulled metallics: navy with copper or silver at Dries Van Noten, and camel with bronze at Céline. Our advice: go ahead and indulge if primary colours float your spring boat – but blow the rent money at your peril, because investment dressing this is not.

10. Black tights are chic again

Even within the upper echelons of the fashion industry, Hedi Slimane has a reputation for being terrifyingly too-cool-for-school. It doesn't get more high-taste, more exclusive, more ruthlessly ultra-chic than Hedi Slimane's Saint Laurent. In other words, this is the last designer you would predict would do something brilliantly helpful such as bring back black opaque tights. But that's what he did with his collection on Monday night, in which almost every look featured knee-high boots (silver leather or brown suede, perhaps) with a very short dress or skirt (sometimes sparkly) under a luxe cape or a fur-trimmed parka. No longer must we choose between goose pimples and being cast into sartorial Siberia: if Hedi says black tights are cool, no one can argue. Normcore just got haute.

March is usually the month where people move from wearing a coat to a shorter jacket. But this year it's definitely a coat that's in fashion