Fashion Weak

Labor Day seems to invoke a number of different emotions. For those who actually get that day off, it provides a sense of relief because the three day weekend allows you to circumvent the usual Monday blues. For parents, it brings forth an overwhelming sense of joy because it means the kids are going back to school. And for New York fashionistas, Labor Day brings forth feelings of love, passion and creativity because Mercedes Benz Fashion Week is right around the corner.

I must admit, I was eager to be apart of this seasons festivities. I applied to several different internship postings via craigslist with the hopes of being underneath the magical tents. Evidently, I was not the only girl, or guy or transgender person nowadays, who wanted in because my willingness to labor for free was denied. I was completely content with pursing this quest again in the winter, until I met Tom. He was the Wille Wanka to my fashion factory. It is my personal goal to become a fashion stylist, and when I overheard him tell someone he was a fashion stylist on the train, I had to introduce myself. A few extra stops and a business card later, I found myself with the golden ticket – an invitation to a fashion show.

Unfortunately, I let my fashion fantasies exceed my reality. I wasn’t naïve enough to believe I was going to be underneath “the tent” between Heidi Klum and (my all time favorite editor at large) Andre’ Leon Talley, however, the idea of strutting into the promenade or the salon in my lacey pumps had become a reoccurring day dream of mine. The show I attended was not exactly a Fashion Week show; it’s what I like to call a “Fashion Weak” show.

fashion weak (‘fa•sh^ən ‘wēk) noun. – small scale fashion shows that occur during Fashion Week that are not sponsored by Mercedes Benz (does not denote that they are unworthy of attending or that the designers’ collections are weak, they’re just not as glamorous as the shows in Bryant Park).

After fighting the tropical rain storm, spilling pizza grease on my dress (which thankfully did not leave a stain), and breaking the tip of the heel of my shoe on the sidewalk, I stepped off the train at 42^nd Street Grand Central Terminal – a few avenues away from Bryant Park – with my confidence surprisingly still in tact. My bad luck made me perfectly on time to meet Tom and a few of his friends. He greeted me with the same kindness and sincerity that he did when he first met me, and wasted no time telling me about the exciting Verrier show he had just worked at Bryant Park. We watched the Kahri show, which made me covet the “Leader of the Pack” jacket and “Love Child” top, and I made a few new contacts. By 11:00pm, my stain resistant dress and broken lacey pumps were back in the closet, and I couldn’t have been happier. It definitely was not my Fashion Week dream, but it was well worth the adventure.

♥ J’aime Bianca