NYFW, Day 6

While I am never one to complain about New York Fashion Week–who wouldn’t want to be the first to next season’s trends–Day 6 is when it starts to feel like an actual job. I can’t find anything to wear because my contents of my entire closet are on my bed, my feet hurt, I’m tired and not to mention I’ve spent three times my weight in cab fare.

Here’s how I spent the day…

8:15 a.m. I literally throw myself into the shower. Must. Not. Be. Late for Bagdley Mischka.

9:35 a.m. Yes, Uber is on time!

10:04 a.m. Wait, someone checked in under the name I was supposed to use. Am I at the wrong show?? Pulls out my phone to iMessage the group.

10:06 a.m. I’m headed back to the office. I wave hi to Hannah from Essence before she snaps a quick picture. And then helps me across the street to a cab, this ice is no joke in heels.

12:15 p.m Corals, er, Hallie, has given me her ticket to Libertine and I’m excited! Off to Lincoln Center, I go!

12:45 p.m. Traffic is an annoying beast. Something has to be done about all this back and forth. I get in line and wait for the process to start.

1:05 p.m. Seated!

1:15 p.m. Introduce myself to the boys seated on either side of me. The faux fur is a conversation piece, apparently.

1:25 p.m. Bill Cunningham is seated across from me and starts snapping shots of people in the crowd. “Who is that?” a girl leaned down to ask. “Bill Cunningham, the New York Times photographer,” I answer trying not to roll my eyes (I have a rant in my spirit about posers in New York, especially when it comes to fashion, but that’s another post for another day). “… He’s Grace Coddington’s husband,” my new friend interjected. I bite my tongue to text my co-worker in the next row.

1:40 p.m. “Get your legs out of the aisle!” an announcer says as the lights dim. It’s showtime!

2:05 p.m. @ilove_libertine, that was so much fun. Next, onto Naeem Khan.

2:15 p.m. Is that Padma Lakshmi?

2:33 p.m. Lights come up and the first model starts to walk. I Shazam the song for my review… it’s Lorde. I see I’m going to have to download this girl’s album. Slightly related, someone should round-up all the songs played during NYFW for an awesome playlist.

2:45 p.m. I want to be the kind of girl who wears Naeem Khan, how can I be that girl?

2:50 p.m. I meet my co-worker in the Mercedes-Benz press lounge. I need to charge my phone and she said there is food and coffee. So yeah, I’m there.

3:30 p.m. I’ve politely eaten enough to avoid a headache for the next couple of hours. Now, time to flag down another taxi. I need to be at Milk Studios, like yesterday.

3:50 p.m. Made it to Milk Studios for Sophie Theallet’s backstage. I’m waiting for the girl from MAC Cosmetics to usher me back, snapping a few photos, when I look up and see Laskmi Sam, Nordstrom’s Regional Beauty Director! The last time I saw her, she was hosting Nordstrom’s beauty trend show. What a coinkydink! Perhaps, another one of those signs?

3:55 p.m. The PR girl blows up my spot about my outfit. “Are you wearing a Zara dress as a skirt?” she asked pulling at my skirt. Why, yes, I did put on a grey cable knit sweater over this Zara dress and then haphazardly belt it. Thanks for pointing that out. Can I go back yet?

4:15 p.m. I’ve recorded audio, snapped pictures, and got the scoop on the looks. Time for me to out this piece. Um, that gorgeous model is Anais, perhaps you’ve seen her in the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show or in Gap ads? Cue heart-eyed emoji.

4:17 p.m. American Express’s Karen Duffy is hopping out of a cab (and she smiles at me) as I slid in. I call my mom to tell her about today’s shows and seeing Laskmi.

4: 30 p.m. Pop into Hale & Hearty, surprised that there isn’t a line and then I remember how late it is.

4:40 p.m. Crack up my soup and kick off my Diane von Furstenberg blue suede pointy pumps under my desk. I walk barefoot into the kitchen to make another cup of coffee.

6:00 p.m. The 1 train is up and running again (it was down all day!), just in time for me get back to Lincoln Center for Pamella Rowland at 6:30 p.m.

6:20 p.m. New York Sate of Mind is playing as I wait. Oh, hey! Hallie’s here!

6:26 p.m. Men in black start rolling the plastic off the runway. It’s one of my favorite parts of the show. According to the designer’s notes on everyone’s seat, the collection “exemplifies the energy of New York City’s architecture as captured by TJ Wilcox’s ‘In The Air’ exhibit at the Whitney Museum of American Art.”

6:50 p.m. I love when I can see how New York influences art–and this show.

7:00 p.m. Time for Skingraph with Lauren. This should be interesting.

7:15 p.m. … Oh, and is. The ASAP Rocky crowd is here. Men in skirts. Tight leather pants. Lots of black.

7:27 p.m. Kelly Cutrone in knee-high black fur snow boots leans over Lauren and I to talk to someone in the second row.

7:35 p.m. The lights dim and what sounds to me like devil moaning and cow bells start. Hm.

7:40 p.m. Maybe some of this stuff isn’t horribly scary. And I’d date some of the men in this audience–minus the ones wearing skirts.

7:53 p.m. That was definitely one of my more interesting experiences during Fashion Week so far. Now, onto Narciso Rodriguez!

8:07 p.m. A lap around the venue confirms that Leandra Medine, Grace Coddington, Suzy Menkes, Joe Zee and Robbie Meyers are in attendance.

8:20 p.m. Narciso Rodriguez is so cute!

8:27 p.m. On the way to the show, Lauren scoped out an Italian restaurant we can replenish ourselves before the last stop of the night. Food!

9:37 p.m. We’re full, my phone is charged… crisis averted. I thought sweet little Lauren was going to meet cranky hangry Channing. Time to party with Guess…

9:45 p.m. The waiter offered us dessert, yes, please!

10:00 p.m. The line for this party is out of control, I’m having flashbacks of not getting into Alice Olivia. There doesn’t seem to be a clear press line here, either.

10:03 p.m. Oh, Courtney Kerr is here. I like her show. I’m cold and my feet hurt.

10:07 p.m. I just can’t. Lauren and I get in the next cab we see. I drop her home before heading uptown to my bed.

10:15 p.m. Were you at a a fashion show, my driver asks me. No, I tell him, a fashion party.

10:22 p.m. Hobble into my apartment and kick off my shoes. Sweatpants and Flamin’ Hot Cheetos (my guilty pleasure/stress reliever), stat. I have so much writing to do before bed.

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