The February wind whips through the tall buildings here. You walk further than you think you could ever walk, then you walk some more. You go to show after show until they all blend together. You see thousands of faces inside the tent, until they all start to look familiar and you think you’ve met everybody before. You’re checked out by men and women alike: “Do I know her?” “Is she important?” “What’s she wearing?”
Depending on where you are seated/standing, people may or may not talk to you. At the night shows, hundreds of yahoos who managed to score an invite push past the industry people politely lined up, insisting they’re important and need to go in first. Being herded like cattle; stumbling over the cobblestones of the park[in the tents there’s no floor- just the open stones of Bryant Park]; taped-down wires, risers, platforms you can’t see in the crush. Waiting in line 20 minutes to even get a seat assignment; waiting in line 15 minutes to get in the door; waiting in line 10 minutes to find your seat; waiting for the show to start. Pounding music inside the shows; deafening.
On the streets: people of multiple races, creeds, heights, body types, tourists from foreign lands, locals who can’t speak the language, couples locked in PDAs (it is Valentine’s Day after all), everybody on their Blackberry; so many people, all crammed together. The sheer number and types of different people is staggering.
Cold. Sore. Tired.
Back at the hotel, strip off multiple layers to take a shower and survey the Fashion Week casualties (chafes from unfamiliar clothes, scrapes where my 1000-lb bag hits my legs, pulled muscles, stubbed toes, lost buttons, rips and tears, running mascara, smelling of cigarette smoke and the streets, the carpet burn under my eye from the airplane aisle I was dragged through by well-meaning attendants).
Roll creakily into bed, managed to bang something out on the keyboard, then realize you still have 4 or so events to cover and about 50 photos to yet post.
Tomorrow, dear readers; tomorrow.:-)
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Tomorrow: IFB Blogger Conference – Jill Stuart Show – The Robert Verdi Retreat – Ecco Domani show
Refreshing article to see how it really goes to attend a big fashion show – on TV all we see is the glitz and the glamour, not realizing all of the waiting and effort it too just to get in to see one live.
Thanks Kathryn! When I was first headed to Fashion Week, I was surprised at how many people go to the shows and cover the events – but how little information there is out there about what it's *really* like to be there! I'm sure if I was just going to one or two shows, as a lover of fashion, it would be so fun to get all dolled up, arrive in style, go into the tent, eventually get to my seat, and watch the show…but when you have to distill information from the show and write about it later, it's not as glitzy as it is made out to be. It's hard work! (But okay, yes, I do have those moments when I'm like “squeeee! I'm at a fashion show in the tents at Bryant Park during Fashion Week!!!!!” Total fangirl moments LOL)
Thanks for your feedback!