Back to the Middle (And Around Again...)

Regardless of my unabashed adoration for Rebecca Taylor, I did have the most fun backstage at her show. Amidst the expected chaos (that I did not witness at BCBG) were the usual suspects: celebrities, paparazzi, and late-to-the-show models.

After waiting patiently - and I say "patiently" only because relative to some model's hirsute and drunk (think poor-man's Cisco Adler) boyfriend, I was meeker than Ghandi - for my press credentials (credentials!) outside of the tent, I was whisked in for a quick interview with Rebecca Taylor herself.


(No, I don't work for BTE, nor is that my hand.)

Besides being the sweetest thing since FunDip, she was also gracious enough to ignore my awkward fumbling and answer a few of my poorly-posed questions. (Note To Self: Buy aforementioned IPOD recorder thingy. Notebook and pen not working. Note To Self #2: Become less awkward). And those "really great, high, sexy shoes" (in seriously awesome colors)? Voila!


I only had a few moments before Rebecca was (graciously) whisked away, and the backstage area got mobbed by paparazzi. Carmen and Emmy had arrived! Observations: Carmen is smaller than I expected. Emmy is taller. Both wore remarkable amounts of make-up, which, while not looking so hot in person, clearly photographed remarkably well.




More observations: Models have an uncanny ability to completely ignore the utter pandemonium surrounding them. Must be something about being in "the eye of the storm"...Either way, they still look pretty:


Also, straight from the pages of UsWeekly: MODELS: They're Just Like Us! (Translation: They like to stick their tongue out and make funny faces in photos, too. They just look better doing it.)


And on a final note: the model with the sunglasses on? She was, unfortunately, a perfect and highly cliched example of someone suffering from Bitchy Model Syndrome. Apparently, it was absolutely imperative that she have her sunglasses on in the photo, regardless of the fact that said sunglasses were still being unpacked. Woe the poor intern that received her wrath and dove through the mob to retrieve them!
The best part of it? At the afterparty later that night, while the show was being screened and I was pointing out Ms. I-Must-Have-My-Sunglasses to my friend, the girl next me gasps: "I'm the intern!"

What can I say? It's a small (fashion) world after all.

Like Leftover Stuffing

So, I totally get that the appeal of blogs is directly related to the immediacy of the medium as a whole, and that my complete and utter suckness at posting promptly is kind of like a black mark on the face of BlogLand and all it's inhabitants, but honestly, sometimes I think that, like leftover stuffing, a late post is better than no post, exponentially more delicious, and without a doubt, best nestled cozily between two slices of bread, alongside some carved turkey breast and cold mashed potatoes.

Also, anyone notice how "Stuffing" is a total play on the word "The Middle" (see BELOW if you're confused)? Because it is. And if you want to mock me for a) pointing out my own sucky pun or b) how sucky the pun is that I have to even point it out, go ahead. MOCK ME. At least I'll get a little action in the comments. Speaking of which, I know there are readers out there, and while I am most appreciative of those readers' silent appreciation, readers that aren't commenting aren't really readers at all. Comment people! To be or not to be? That is the question. And it's answer is: Comment, dammit! And I'll respond with more delicate witticisms and probing factoids and we can have a cyber-land utopia! (Um. Not reaaaaaaaally. But if that will get you to come out into the open, then so be it. Well, that or, I'll send you free stuff. Nothing like a little bribery, eh?)

And speaking of Canada, all you invisible peeps out there should check out my Emmy Red Carpet LiveBlog with two other AWESOME Canadian chicks, who have a much cooler and waaaaaay funnier social life than I do. We were all LiveBlog virgins, but I think we pulled off the "I've totally done this before" vibe quite nicely.

Oh, and to get back to the stuffing. This was supposed to be the post where I filled you in on my Fashion Week happenings (all two of them), but instead it meandered into a vaguely metaphorical and simile-full ramble. So, I'll get back to the stuffing later. Adios!

Somewhere in the Middle

I just noticed that there is a glaringly large gap between my "And It Starts..." beginning of Fashion Week post and my "Fashion Week Limbo" end of Fashion Week post. I'll fill in the details tomorrow (with photos!), once I'm off this plane and slightly more rested, and also at an actual keyboard, since I'm pretty sure I'm slowly but surely giving myself carpel tunnel.

Fashion Week Limbo (also known as JFK-British Airways Terminal)

There's nothing like an airport full of models (on their way to London from NY Fashion Week) to make a gal feel good. Particularly when said gal is in particularly grubby travel clothing covered in a particularly large amount of dog hair, nevermind the fact that due to both time and location limitations, said gal is on her second McDonald's meal of the day. If you haven't caught on yet, said gal is me and I am currently testing out mobile blogging as well as starting to curse the BlackBerry Pearl's double letter keys. This would be so much easier if I had a Sidekick.

Back to the models: A table full of them, laptops out (think they'd let me borrow one?), also chowing down on McD's, but looking exponentially more glamorous and glow-y while doing so, are less than ten feet away. It's like seeing exotic animals in their natural environment, or maybe like seeing exotic animals in a crappy airport terminal, but whatever. If I wasn't so certain that after this hell-ish week they were more tired and sick of camera's than I, I'd sack up and snap a few pics to add to this feeble post. Maybe snag some names and shows walked, but as it stands, I'm going to leave them alone. Models need time to eat and blog too, and far be it from me to separate anyone from their Big Mac.

A more potential prospect would be Noot Seear, who was in line ahead of me at McDonald's, and who I actually have a mild connection with, having gone to junior high with her cousin and having fond memories of using a bottle of Joico spray-in conditioner to detangle Noot's (then known as Renata, and what's up with model names anyway?) seventh grade tangles, one summer prior to her discovery in a mall in Bellingham. But, same rules apply as above, and though I have a tendency to hold random childhood memories close to my heart, most (especially now famous) people do not, as I've learned when running into former elementary school classmates who have no recollection who I am, while I could list their birthday, snack of choice, and desk location in class. Back to Noot, though: I am definitely friends with her cousin (my seventh and eighth grade friend) on Facebook. Does that make the connection more legit?

Ugh. Looks like it's time to board, and no, I'm not going to London for fashion week, so don't rub it in.

And It Starts.

Spent the morning yesterday backstage at BCBG. Yes, you heard me. Backstage. I'm that girl.

But before you get all these lofty images of me in your head, know that I showed up to Bryant Park about 30 minutes early, and did a thorough lap of the tents just to establish where exactly the Front was. (6th Ave, but seriously, it's not that easy.) Passed Rachel Clark coming around the South side of the tents looking far more certain of her destination than I was.

Met my friend Poppy Harlow, who was covering the show for CBS's ShowBuzz, as well as Forbes.com. We also had an interview scheduled with Merrill Greene, Creative Director of Style Sight, an online fashion resource site and trend forecasting company. Poppy whisked me backstage, where it looked exactly how you would picture it to look, minus about 10 degrees of pandemonium. I browsed the racks, trying to look as "I'm supposed to be here" as I could, and Poppy did her "HI! I'M POPPY HARLOW WITH CBSNEWS SHOWBUZZ.COM! AND WE'RE HERE, BACKSTAGE AT BCBG's SPRING-", you get the point.

I saw a couple of models (although, no Stam sightings, unlike Fashionista), and watched Poppy do her awesome thing with Max Azria himself:



Then I did my thing, which was a little less professional, a little more awkward, and involved me scribbling furiously in a notebook so that I might actually be able to use some of the quotes. (Note to Self: Get tape recorder. Or cool Mac thing that plugs into top of ipod and works as tape recorder.) Merrill Greene was insightful and gracious and gave me some wonderful fodder for a follow up to a previous post on the current hubbub going on about copyrights in the fashion industry.

And then it was 8:55 and I sprinted (I do actually have one of those day-jobs, that I do actually like, and hope to keep) out of the tents, passing Faran Krentcil on my way out, and in recognizing her face, thought I actually knew her, smiled and waved hello. She was polite enough, although slightly confused, so Faran, if you're reading this, that was me, nice to meet you, and yes, I'm usually this (that?) awkward.

All in all, an awesome, if early, morning, and check out my more official (and professional) post about the collection itself over on HuffPo.

Happy Fashion Week and Adios!

If I Were Cool, I'd Be Cooler About This.

But I'm not, so here goes.

You are now looking at (reading? looking at the blog of?) HuffPo's newest Roving Reporter for Fashion Week. Yes, I abitrarily capitalized Roving Reporter. And no, it's not really official. And yes, there will be about 98923749238742 billion other people posting about Fashion Week on HuffPo alone, but still! Let me have my moment.

What I'm trying to say is: keep your eyes peeled for my posts on the goings-on and the happenings-at this season's NY Fashion Week. I will be stealthily and intrepidly infiltrating the toughest door lists and coolest shows. (And by toughest door lists and coolest shows, I mean, a show here and there, and maybe a party that I snuck into through the kitchen entry. And if I do actually make it anywhere cool, it's all thanks to my actually cool and actually in-the-know friend, Poppy.)

Enough self-deprecation. I suppose this is one of those times where I'm supposed to create (or live up to) some sort of blogger persona. You know, where the blogger is actually a much cooler and more confident, and more or less fictional version of their real selves? Well I say, Nay! I will not! I will be myself. My own super-self-aware, hyper analytical, moderately funny, almost-cool-but-not-quite-but-really-it-depends-on-who-you're-talking-to-and-what-night-and-what-outfit-and-how-many-drinks-deep-i-am self. Whew. Did you follow that? Congrats.

What I'm trying to say is that the posts will be ME. And funny. And original (I hope). And I'm also hoping that maybe someone will actually use the word "irreverent" to describe them. Only because I like that word and am usually quite jealous of people who get described by it. And yes, I do know that it doesn't necessarily mean something particularly complementary (especially if you're talking to anyone particularly religious), but it sounds cool. And funny. (Both of which are my goals), so, THERE.

Here's to irreverence!