Wednesday, February 24, 2010

My experience with Fashion Week...

Like the uncountable number of other bloggers that weren't invited to Fashion Week this year, even though they really really wish they were, I stand in that crowd too. But I was not going to let that stop me from at least going to Bryant Park to snap some pictures for this blog, therefore, I hopped on over to 42nd street two Saturday's ago (in the midst of it all) to see what I could see. It was about half way into a show, (even though I was unaware of who was walking the runway), that didn't bother me because all I wanted was to snap some shots at the commotion and the outside tent (that's all I thought I could do.) Anyway, upon arrival I met a huge crowd of people all thinking the same thing as me, "why don't I go down to the tents just to see what it is like, no body else will be there...right?" Well, actually, I was wrong, and it made it a little harder to take photographs as I had hoped. But anyway, once I got some of the outside and of the crowd, I thought that I might as well head home. Until, I saw a little path off to the left of the tent, where not too many people were coming in and out of, so I decided to follow it to the side of the tents.
Here, I met silence. It seemed as though all the noise from people had died down in the matter of seconds. So I started to walk along the side of the tent, and there were two entrances that lead into the tent itself, but there were numerous people smoking outside each entrance, and I didn't really know what to do. So I waited and talked to myself saying, "oh please, just waltz on in and act professional," and then I would tell myself, "you know this is Fashion Week, you can't just do this and act like it's nothing." Oh dear! What to do, what to do? Well, I was still eager to see what was beyond the thin outer layer of the tent, as music boomed through the seams and people from the fashion industry strolled in and out. So finally, one entrance was clear, and once I approached it, a small sign read "Prabal Gurung." I had never heard of him before, and didn't exactly know what it meant until later I found out that he was a blossoming designer. Anyway, I walk through the doors of the tent and meet a desk with two ladies there checking people in, and then two long strips of heavy black cloth with a large opening in the middle, so that you could easily see beyond into back stage. Models with hair pinned ever so perfectly above their head were being talked to and had cameras snapping in their faces as lights flickered along side the camera men. There was a little mini-fridge with Starbucks frapuccino's in them and about 2o people walking and talking casually, while men and women ran about frantically making sure that everything was going as planned.
I am not exactly sure what location I was in, in relation to the runway, but all I know is that it was a sight to see. But hold up, no I wasn't past the black cloth, but since there was such a large space between the panals, that is how I could see through. The ladies at the black desk looked at me every so often, probably thinking "What is she doing here? And why is she staring so intently at everything?" But I was happy that they didn't ask me any questions or make me leave. I must have stood there for about fifteen minutes just staring at the scene, but was never able to build up my courage to ask if I could get a little further. So I excited and took a deep breath. Then a man with a headset was about to enter as I was still standing outside the door, and I asked him if I could take pictures for my blog thinking that he would respond with a chuckle and move on, but instead he said very politely, "only if you have a letter from the designer or an invitation to the show," but sadly I had neither, so I thanked him and couldn't do much else but leave.
When I left the tent and entered the fresh air, about three models were smoking with men that you could just tell were all about fashion. To my right, a man with robot like glasses was modeling for a camera man, and to my left models were marching my way as they were headed toward the tents.
It was quite a scene, if only I had stayed long enough to see the attendees exiting, that would have been something to write about. But anyhow, it was an adventure, and though I was nervous as ever and burning up under my coat, I felt as though that was where I belonged.


1 comment:

  1. Wow sounds exciting....too bad you didn't get to get closer...but still that's awesome. I wish I lived in NYC and could try something like that.