Saturday, September 8, 2012

Let the Games Begin

Twice a year, every year, fashion junkies to magazine editors and everyone in between emerge from their respective corners of society and congregate in the name of fashion. The occasion means something different for everyone. For some, it is a way to get seen. For others, it is a way to get heard. No matter who it is, though, these people share a mutual appreciation for an art form as timeless and controversial as history itself. Fashion Week is a "shining beacon of hope," in the words of Nigel from The Devil Wears Prada, for those who can only see their dreams come to fruition with their eyes closed.

Three years ago, Vogue and the Council of Fashion Designers of America (CFDA) created the ultimate global event to alert the world of fashion's boundless influence. Fashion's Night Out is one of the only successful methods I have seen of blurring the line between the fashion world and the real world. Despite the fact that I feel that the night's festivities have become more exclusive and inaccessible for the average person to enjoy to its fullest capacity, it's easy to get lucky--or know exactly where to go--and have an unforgettable experience. Last year, I met some of my and the world's favorite bloggers, designers, and icons. At the time, I had no idea that the Man Repeller would know who I am after a few months, or that I would meet up with Emily Weiss for tea one day after school. Perhaps in the future I will get to know Jason Wu. But for now, I am on the path to forging relationships (I dream big, guys, you know that. Go big or go home. Isn't that the NASCAR tagline or something? Or just the motto of the southern United States?) with people I see daily on my computer screen and covering the pages of magazines. As a friend put it the other day, "It's not fair. I only get to see these people on Hulu and you get to meet them." If we're talking fairness, I don't know if I can agree with him on that. But I try to remember everyday what this blog and Fashion Week have done for me. The shows I see in the tents (and online) are about the seamless amalgamation of artistry, commerce, cult-like obsession, subjective beauty, and evolution. At least that's how I see it. For me, Fashion Week reminds me that this is all real.

When I saw Anna Dello Russo standing a few feet in front of me on 5th Avenue on Thursday night, I freaked out. I have pictures of her saved on my laptop. I've watched her every sartorial move (take that lightly, I'm not a stalker, just an avid street style follower) since I first saw her on Harper's Bazaar's website god-knows-when. She is a modern fashion icon among the ranks of Daphne Guinness and their slightly elderly fellow fashion devotee Iris Apfel. When she turned around and I saw her face and heard her speaking rapidly in Italian, I couldn't wrap my head around what was happening. Incidentally, I was on the phone and my camera was in my backpack, so I just started shout-whispering profanities at my friend on the other line and my mom who was standing next to me. I thrust the phone into her hand, and, by my mother's urging nonetheless, bolted (safely, always wait for the walk light, kiddies) across the street to stalk her like there was no tomorrow. Consider her thoroughly paparazzi'd. It was crazy how she seemed totally unfazed by me getting up so close with my flashbulb going off all over the place. She's used to it.

That was my Fashion's Night Out. Photographic documentation can be found below.

[Photos by me.]

La mère sippin' free champagne and livin' it up. Pinkies out! 

I had to take a picture of this girl's shirt. It was too good to pass up. Whoever created it is a genius. 

Miss Dello Russo herself, rocking what I originally assumed was Versace, but I am unsure of what she's actually wearing. Beauty, that's what. 
[EDIT: it is Versace.]

That is one hefty cut-out, wouldn't you say?

And she's still here! She was probably telling all of her Italian friends what a creep I am. That's why that guy was laughing in the first picture of her. 

Fashion Week and the beginning of sophomore year are a horrid mix, in case you ever thought the combination could work harmoniously. I won't give you any of the details of my troubles because they'll just making me sound terribly ungrateful and snooty. That's not what the vibe is about.

In the past two days alone, I've had awesome interactions with some of my favorite bloggers from all ova da place who knew who I am, like Stacey Belko of Devorelebeaumonstre, Nadia Sarwar of FrouFrouu, and Claire Geist of De Lune. I attended my first show of the season on Friday night, Erin Barr. It was an awesome presentation that I will be sharing with you when time permits. I won't be as consistent with my Fashion Week updates as last season because it is the first week of school, but it will be up eventually. As stressful as everything is, I've just got to remember, as my friend Elly has taught me, "I-i-i-i-i--inner peace."

If you're in New York, all eyes/lenses are on us.


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