I arrived so early to the first Fashion Week event that I spent the next hour balancing in my new heels on the sidewalk outside. I wasn’t the first to arrive but I was the second. The first was a woman who was representing her sister, Joyarte Jewelry Couture, a texan jewellery designer who’s jewellery was being worn in the show today. We were both ridiculously excited and early.
My new friend Melba and her sister Jessica arrived soon after. It was their first invitation to a Fashion Week event too and we were like little school girls, taking our pictures out the front and trying for a glance as organisers set up inside.
Being this early and starting the line you would imagine we’d be first into the show but the Aussie Milliner was once again on the wrong side of the entry door (story of my U.S. life). As they gestured everyone to form a line on the other side of the entry this made us practically last in line for the show.
I was balancing from sore foot to foot in my new heels when it dawned upon me that the term ‘fashionably late’ came from the fashion industry. Our 2pm show that we were told to arrive at by 1.30pm was now half an hour late but at least the line was moving, even though we were at the end of it.
The fashionable Gregory was prancing up and down the line separating the VIP’s from the rest when he asked Melba who we were with. When she told him (I had no idea of course) his response was ‘why on earth didn’t you say’ as he parted the crowd and whisked us inside to our fabulous VIP seats.
We were at the ‘Designer’s Collective’, showcasing the work of eight new designers. The atmosphere was so exciting. The lights dimmed, the chatter stopped and the music started the show. The first model on the runway was a male, an attractive, very toned and near naked male. Oh how I love fashion.
One after one the models strut the runway, the fashion was awesome, the models were amazing, the atmosphere was electric. Everyone was at the same party – smiling (except the models, who don’t smile), oohing and ahhing at the show. It was such a buzz.
Each designer would appear with their models after their last piece was shown, some were given a standing applause, cameras flashed, cheers rose and we were in a world of buzz and hype.
The lights dimmed as a surprise was announced. We sat in waiting until they arrived – children, little completely made up bambino models with pouts and struts like their idols, showing the cutest of cute children’s clothing. The crowd was in awe as these kids walked the walk with emotionless faces – it was like something you’ve never imagined nor seen. Beautiful yet slightly disturbing.
Then as quick as the show started, it was over. After all that waiting and build up, heel shuffling, excitement and hype – it’s all over – just like that. So we grab our gift packs and go.
Outside, back on the pavement Melba, Jess and I make meet up plans for the next show that was in four hours time. We went our own ways and as I sat in the taxi and the in-cab video advertised New York Fashion week I had the biggest smile on my face – I had just attended my first New York Fashion Week show and hilariously, unknowingly as a VIP.
After thinking it impossible to get to a show I had managed to get tickets to two, as a VIP to both. However, realistically, given they are invitation only, I think most people at these shows are VIP.
For the evening event we were a little more local and prepared. We arrived slightly later and went to the other side of the door for the line. We signalled Gregory as soon as we could catch his eye and in the same heels but in less pain, I was at the Carlos Alberto Haute Couture fashion show.
This event was sponsored by Moet and Chandon champagne and Fou-dre’ vodka (how perfect).
As we entered the crowded room full of fashionistas we grabbed a glass of very good bubbles and made way to our seats. After strategically placing our belongings on our chairs I didn’t know which way to turn. The music was pumping, guests were grooving and the Helen Mills Event Space was alive and happening.
I was standing there with the biggest smile on my face, in my new Ralph Lauren dress, with bubbles in hand when I was gestured to the black carpet for a pic. This was one of those moments when you wish you had Jemma from Bohemia for Hair with you. I had the new dress, italian shoes and Diane von Furstenberg clutch and the Flicca makeup and hair! Cameras were clicking and I was panicking with no idea which way to look or turn. Then it was thumbs up, hugs on my way off and my moment of stardom was done.
Completely overwhelmed and now having lost Melba and Jessica in the crowd I made my way back to my seat, which had now been taken and my belongings moved alongside. At this stage I really had no idea what to do. The fashionista was vague in response to my polite mention, with my seat number in hand that this was in fact my chair. I hadn’t come this far to give it up. So she assumed the next seat on and I swiftly moved in.
The show start was fashionably late but I wasn’t getting up and was firmly planted in my chair. The magnificent Melba realised the situation and grabbed for me my next glass of bubbles, bless her and a few seats down from me Melba and Jess took their seats.
The Carlos Alberto show was magnificent. The clothes, the models, the atmosphere and again, the children (I am going to need some minnie hat models for my next show) … it was all absolutely amazing. Before and after the show the DJ has the crowd groving their moves, everyone is dancing. The DJ plays such an important role in these events, keeping guests occupied before and after the show and of course, keeping the models moving when it’s lights on.
I have learnt some tips that you will see in my next parades and shows and been reassured that what I see as imperative, including the professionalism of models and honour of having DJ Rosco entertain my crowds, is on track and so very important. As I sip my bubbles amongst the fashion week crowd I’m euphoric, thankful and proud.
When I boarded the plane in Broome I thought my dream of attending a New York Fashion week event was so much less than likely. Yet, here I am in New York City still revelling from attending two shows. I love life.
As for how I came across those two tickets to Fashion Week, well, that story comes with bubbles and a catch up on my return. As you know, though, it includes taking time for a chat, to smile, be nice and treat others how you would like to be treated and above all, its a massive thank you to Collette, Melba and the Lion King.
Enjoy the pics. x f