Living the Dream

19 09 2008

Yes, I survived Fashion Week. (Barely.) My feet are still a little angry with me and have refused to wear heels since Saturday, but they are gearing up for Saturday, when the fabulous Liz, my Buenos Aires friend comes from London. I am still getting over the cold I acquired and I have finally found the floor in my room.

But don’t feel sorry for me. I certainly don’t. Fashion Week was rough, but absolutely amazing too. I met some great people, made a new friend, saw some gorgeous clothes, and wrote a lot. I also got to have my photo taken with Tyson Beckford and spoke to  J. Alexander from America’s Next Top Model.

But here is the best part of all. Every day at Fashion Week I watched photographers get women up onto the runway and photograph their outfits. I vied with people for views of these women, thinking they were famous, only to find out that they weren’t. The photographers just wanted to capture their outfits. And their outfits were generally fabulous. And enviable.

Come Thursday, I was walking out of the tent, clad in my very favorite Club Monaco (which is not terribly Fashion Week) skirt with the drop waist, and a giant bag containing my laptop, totally out of it and on my way to another show, when a phtographer stops me. He wanted a photo of my outfit. My outfit. I was stunned. And quite not a little thrilled. And so shocked I forgot to ask who he was with. Oops. So there is a photo floating around somewhere of me in my new favorite outfit. Oh well, still exciting. (But don’t mention it to the gold stilettos. They are still seething that they were not along.)

And here, since I don’t have that photo, Tyson:

With new friends, and prettiness.

With new friends, and prettiness.