Today’s post could be alternately titled: Bloggers Behaving Badly… But we’ll get to that part.
SPRING 2015| NEW YORK FASHION WEEK RECAP | DAY 2
8:30 a.m. Wake up — FLAWLESS.
8:31 a.m. Kidding, obviously. That was too easy. Already, Fashion Week has taken it’s toll on me – and boy, do I look haggard. Feeling thankful that I have a blowout scheduled this morning.
8:40 a.m. My mornings tend to start the same way, it seems. Here again, my closet and I are amid a serious wardrobe battle. Hm, let’s think: I have the Nicole Miller show later this evening, but I definitely won’t have time to change mid-day — nor do I want to tote around tons of shit with me. As a result, I decide on a linen dress that I borrowed from the brand and a pair of turquoise tassel earrings that I wear with everything.
9:00 a.m. All right. And we’re off! I’m in a cab heading uptown to Eiji salon (physically, at least), where I’m meeting the girls from Joico (the brand I had dinner with last night). I swear, I’m never NOT doing my make-up in a moving vehicle. Especially during Fashion Week.
9:45 a.m. I arrive at the salon and make an immediate bee-line to the food table. Carbs & catering (new blog name?!) are God’s gift to earth, I think. No, I’m sure. My first stop is the bagel tray — Fashion Week makes this bitch HANGRY.
9:56 a.m. I’m in a carb-induced coma — working hard to revive myself with Starbucks — when a posh-looking lady approaches my chair and asked if I need my hair washed. I smile knowingly — she takes one look at my greasy head, nods in agreement and leads me through a back hallway to the sinks.
10:01 a.m. Oh, yes. Yes. YAAAAS! Is there anything better than getting your hair washed? No. I’m like a dog, or something. Again! Again!
10:10 a.m. …Oops, I definitely fell asleep in the chair. Not unusual on my end, though this woman is anxiously tapping me on the cheek. Wait, the CHEEK? Okay, I’m up. Geez. Go for the shoulder next time, woman — and please, PLEASE stop calling me “ma’am.”
10:30 a.m. My stylist works up some serious magic with Joico‘s latest product line, which I hope will hold my hair throughout the day. Day Two is hot and H-U-M-I-D. Afterward, I hop in a car and head downtown to check out Kate Spade’s new collection. I’m with Mackenzie, Jess and Carly — three blogging babes that are always down for a dose of whimsy!
11:25 a.m. We arrive at Kate Spade to lots of familiar faces. This is one presentation that’s always packed with bloggers. There’s three or four girls on the PR team rushing around, headsets in-ear and iPads in-hand. They’re corralling us into a massive freight elevator — chic! I was actually on the list this year — despite my antics the last spring season. Up we go!
11:55 a.m. Kate Spade’s presentation is usually in the same location each season, but the set is always done differently so as to accurately reflect the current collection. I grab a run-of-show (a description of the collection/each look) and give it a quick scan, feeling immediately connected to this season’s theme: “Fresh starts, taking chances and feeling that anything is possible.” PREACH! Guess I’m going to have to buy every single piece the minute they hit stores. Yep.
11:57 a.m. The floor of the presentation is covered in grass, which doesn’t bode well for this high heel-clad crew. Nonetheless, I do a few laps around the garden-party setting, creating divots with each step. I’m pretty sure there isn’t one person in here who DIDN’T just Instagram that gorgeous white wall.
12:10 p.m. I reach into my bag to grab my camera and realize that I left it at the salon. Not a huge deal (Uber messenger to the rescue!), but this goes to show that I’d lose my head if it weren’t attached to my body.
1:06 p.m. Julia and I grab a cab and head north to the Empire Hotel — aka the epicenter of Fashion Week (beyond Lincoln Center). I mentally note that my time spent in cabs/cars/vehicles is when I’ll be getting the majority of my sleep over the next few days.
1:25 p.m. We arrive and head up the elevator to a R&R lounge that Gigi New York is hosting. (Have you seen their clutches? I have this one — they’re the cutest.) We sit down — a luxury at this point in the week — and I help myself to the cupcake tray. We’re given the opportunity to monogram a pair of Yosi Samra shoes, too, which are foldable flats that remind me of Tieks. The timing couldn’t be better, as I actually forgot to pack my favorite pair today.
1:40 p.m. I can only stay for a few minutes, so I grab another cupcake for the road and cross the street to meet my friends from SK-II (the brand that gave me that very public facial on Day One). SK-II co-sponsored the giveaway on my blog last week, and I’m taking one of the winners to see Rebecca Minkoff today!
1:42 p.m. Courtney greets me with a kiss on the cheek. She hands me the tickets and we fall into step next to one another on our walk back to Lincoln Center. I open the envelope and immediately, my heart drops – we have a BCBG situation on our hands (explanation here, if you need it).
1:45 p.m. I quickly articulate yesterday’s ticket confusion, but have to duck into the Theater for my second show of the day — Carmen Marc Valvo. Sigh. It’s fine. It’ll work out — whether we’re going rogue or not, it always does, right?
1:56 p.m. For some reason, this is the most crowded show I’ve been to this season. I mean, we’re literally cattle being herded into a room. I think some designers invite their customers (in addition to editors, bloggers, buyers, etc) to shows. Many people are clutching iPads (to take photos — THE WORST) and wearing pearls. The air is thick and smells of mixed perfumes.
2:15 p.m. I settle into a second-row seat (strategically selected, of course — no iPad holders in sight), and am pleased when the show starts “early.” I have one more presentation to slip into before the Rebecca Minkoff show, which is at 3 p.m.
2:20 p.m. Oh, fuck yeah. MEN ALERT! There are MALE MODELS! I love when the men’s and women’s collections are showcased together. This is likely because I spend every single second with women — and only women — during Fashion Week. Estrogen overload.
2:45 p.m. After the show, I pull up my Trina Turk ticket (on an app called Fashion GPS) and make my way to another studio. Trina’s spring collection reflects her bright-and-cheery aesthetic, which means prints a-plenty and models taking selfies on the stage. A few hours ago, this room was designed entirely differently for another runway show. It’s crazy how quickly the staff here can take-down and re-assemble a designer’s set, isn’t it?
2:56 p.m. I weave in and out of the Lincoln Center loiterers to find Libby, my giveaway winner. She’s waiting for me outside amid a sea of photographers and fashion peacockers — people pretending to be on their phones, hoping to get street-styled. (Total pet peeve!)
3:00 p.m. I notice a group of people with tickets resembling ours, so I follow them past security and am happily relieved when we end up where we are supposed to be. (VIP, apparently.) We’re led back into the theater I was just in (which now looks different) for Rebecca Minkoff‘s show. There are benches lining a U-shaped runway and 3D glasses on the seat, along with instructions that read: “Put on your glasses for the final five looks.” Always pushing the envelope, this one.
3:05 p.m. We have a few minutes before the show starts, so we take a lap around the room and I quickly give her the run-down on the lay-of-the-land.
3:27 p.m. There is often so much spectacle during a Minkoff show that it can be easy to forget about the clothes themselves; however, as the first model takes the runway, we’re all instantly captivated. Minkoff’s girl is dressed in muted hues, pretty silhouettes and simple patterns — she look effortlessly stylish, and it appears that bed head is back in style (great news for us snoozers)!
3:36 p.m. Afterward, Libby and I mosey out and eavesdrop on celeb interviews, including Olivia Palermo and Stassi Schroeder. Once outside, we head over to the Empire Hotel where I meet Lydia to shoot another round of outfit photos (which will be up tomorrow).
3:55 p.m. I give Libby a squeeze, thank her for coming and duck back inside to have a quick glass of wine with the girls. Priorities, people! Wait, have I eaten today? Oh yes — bagels and cupcakes.
4:30 p.m. Thankfully, we have a bit of down-time before our next round of shows – Nicole Miller for the group, L.A.M.B for me. I volunteer myself for a quick Starbucks run. (My workout for the day?) Double-fisting caffeine and alcohol during Fashion Week is not the norm, it’s an actual necessity.
4:40 p.m. Jess and I talk plans for that night – we haven’t yet received an invitation to Charlotte Ronson‘s after-party, which we’re bummed about. We go every season, and it’s traditionally our favorite event. (Here’s highlights from last season – including our convo with SamRo). Late-night Fridays are a Fashion Week right-of-passage! We’ve got to make it happen…
5:25 p.m. I finish my wine, hop in yet another fucking cab and head downtown to catch the tail-end of the L.A.M.B. presentation. How much money do we anticipate I’m spending on taxi transportation this season? Whatever, I’m covering this one for Glam; plus, I didn’t want to miss Gwen Stefani’s return to NYFW. I love her!
5:43 p.m. After a few laps and iPhone snaps, I am back in a cab, spilling out onto Lincoln Center. I’m starting to feel delirious. Jess, Grace and I cross the street and walk back toward the Tents. It’s Nicole Miller time!
6:12 p.m. I’m excited for tonight’s show — especially since I’d been lucky to get a sneak-peek of the collection a few days prior. (A group of us visited Nicole’s showroom earlier in the week, watching her finish model fittings and finalize shoe pairings.)
6:28 p.m. The runway is pretty cool, and it’s in the same studio that Trina Turk’s collection was shown in mere hours ago. (Scroll up; see the difference?) There’s a backdrop of palm trees, the models are weaving along a patterned on the runway, and — is that an actual bongo drum? Appropriate, as this season’s collection is inspired by the art, vibrancy and culture of Brazil. Who else wants to plan our trip to Rio?
6:35 p.m. After the show, Jess and I have another hour of “downtime” before our last show of the day: Charlotte Ronson‘s presentation. I convince her to run (cab) back to the office with me so I can drop off my computer and answer a few quick e-mails (despite the fact that it’s Friday night). There’s no such thing as “concept of time” during MBFW.
6:45 p.m. I collapse into the swivel chair at my desk — and I shit you not, there sits an invitation to Charlotte Ronson’s after-party. ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE, MY FRIENDS! YAAASSSSSSSS! The universe must know that we are in desperate need of vodka and an open bar tonight.
7:10 p.m. After raiding the office kitchen (for the essentials — water and Luna bars), we head back to Lincoln Center. That’s six cabs today so far, in case you’re counting. I think.
7:40 p.m. Jess and I loiter a bit by the DJ booth, where Charlotte’s sister, Samantha Ronson, is DJ’ing. And not going to lie — she was a huge factor in our decision to muster up the energy behind that commute.
7:45 p.m. The collection is a lot of athletic-inspired minimalism, and the models are all in Teva’s. This sends me into a fit of jealousy — my feet hurt and I wish I wasn’t wearing such a tight dress (or that I’d eaten so many carbs today). Whitney Port enters the room — her arrival is met with lots of chaos and just as many camera flashes. “Let’s go,” Jess and I agree.
7:55 p.m. Now, the creepiest thing about Lincoln Center during Fashion Week? The men who stand around and ask coyly to take your picture. What, bro, on your Samsung Galaxy X? And for what, your personal file? Move it or LOSE IT. (Uh oh: My New York is showing… Need. Alcohol.)
8:20 p.m. I’m exhausted, hangry and thereby unable to think, but I manage to finish three show reviews in the cab downtown to Chelsea. We’re eager to escape the Upper West Side, and eating something beyond cupcakes and bagels would probably be a good decision. We decide on Cookshop and find two seats at the bar. Perfect.
10:15 p.m. After an amazing meal and ample amounts of booze, we walk a few blocks to Avenue for the after-party. It’s go time, bitches! The jams are on point, of course — SamRo is DJ’ing. I begin to question at what point she will recognize us and file for a Fashion Week restraining order. Seriously.
11:20 p.m. For whatever reason, Friday during Fashion Week is our late-night MO. Ashley texts us – she just finished up at her party, so we all decide to rendezvous at another bar. We stifle yawn and commit to YOLO over FOMO. In it to win it tonight, you guys! Here goes nothing…
From there, we were out, about and bar-hopping ’til late — which always makes for a very interesting Day 3. I’ll leave it at that, for now — there’s more to come on that in my next recap. Stay tuned!