Across the globe, fashion soldiers are gallantly nursing their wounds. Feet torn to ribbons, champagne-laced livers, savaged cheekbone self-esteem and – woe! – a bitch of a dry cleaning bill.

And so, we're almost finished. New York, London and Milan. All that beauty; so whelming. All that free stuff; so tiresome. All that chatter; so throat-drying.

To reminisce over the fray we faced down, here’s our edit of the finest bon mots twitter had to offer.

Identities have been concealed to protect the fabulous.