Today was a total fashion fuck up.
Locked out of Christian Siriano. Then trekked over to the Waldorf Astoria for what was billed as a 'Red Carpet Event' but was more like something that resembled a suburban sewing circle meet up. I noted that the hotel is like a Grandma who stills wear red lipstick at 90 even though it bleeds into the cracks. My fash week partner and I stopped to have a glass of bad Champagne while taking advantage of the free Wifi. I stroked a fake palm tree before I left and clocked a few mafioso types in the gift shop.
We then hopped over to Chelsea for Alexander Berardi and lined up for 30 minutes in the freezing cold for a show that was then 50 minutes late. At this point you need to be really impressed by the clothes. Let's just say I was more enthralled with the new fashion friend I made when I snagged myself a seat. And this man's legs (yes, man).
On the positive side, in addition to new friend at Berardi I saw my cohort from the Toni Mess-o-rama show at the tents and met two charming Californians who're starting a menswear design company. They'd just got a plane to New York and blagged it into the tents and were pretty convinced they were getting into the Naomi Campbell for Haiti show. It is for the best we didn't have tickets for this, I've always known that if I met Naomi, I'd be tempted to goad her to see if she'd attack me with the heel of her shoe.
When I left the Left Coasters they were about to start enjoying the free bar in the tent. Why not? This is the land of faking it till you make it after all. And fashion is all about fakery.
And when you live in this make believe land they called America, a good business card is essential. My new ones from moo.com were waiting for me when I got home today. If it wasn't for the parties I blagged new invites for tonight, this would have been the most exciting thing to happen to me today.
Tonight is two fashion soirees. I should probably not call them soirees, that sounds like something a Southern housewife visiting the city would say. I have styled The American so he can look a bit fash too. He says It was like having Rachel Zoe in the apartment. I said if Rachel Zoe was here, I'd probably eat her. He said that was just silly, as there obviously wouldn't be any meat on her.
They have a free bar at these parties. I don't know that the New York fashion scene has experienced the combination of Welsh girl plus free booze.
It could get messy than a Toni Maticevski dress.
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