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.