7 shows, 3 parties, 2 days (or how to BS your way through Fashion Week)

So it’s Fashion Week in NYC, and for the first time ever I’ve decided that I would actually give a fuck and try to join the festivities. As some of you might know, I work for Missbehave, but I’m not exactly a  ”Superstar Fashion Editor” here (I leave that job to Allison and Rose) Needless to say, there’s no towncar outside my apartment waiting to take me backstage to the Marc Jacobs show. Still, a girl haz her resources, so here is my guide on how to make it though the velvet ropes faster than you can say “I’m Anna Wintour’s daughter”.

Pictorial evidence of the weekend fashion smashion madness after the jump.

Leann (my roomie) and I, met with Alex theboyintern on Saturday morning at Bryant Park for the Charlotte Ronson show. Sally said she was gonna put us on the list, but it turned out we weren’t there (thanks Sally!) Still, for some reason, the door person gave Alex a seat ticket and standing tickets to us. It was right then when my inner bitch came afloat and everyone had to endure my first of many hissy fits that I had to throw during the weekend. Basically, I was all like “Don’t you know who I AM??!!! You just gave a seat to my intern! MY INTERN!!!!!! and I have to stand? Where is the producer?! Where is Mark Ronson??!!! (I know that last part doesn’t have anything to do with anything, I just really wanted to know where MR was) Anyway, it worked. Second row woot!

The show was awesome. I would wear anything on that runway in a heartbeat. Daisy Lowe was modeling and she was basically the only not-scarily-skinny model I would watch for the next 48 hours. Sam Ronson and Lindsay Lohan were on the first row. So was Sean Lennon. *Yawn* Next!

On our way outside the tents, I was stopped to have my picture taken by like 5 different photographers. That is because I rule at life and at fashion. I’m probably looking like a total moron at some Malaysian blog as we speak, so let me know if you  find my pic anywhere on the interweb. Anyway, once outside,  we took a cab to the Altman Building  to attend the United Bamboo show. My friend Stacy got us on the list but for some reason our names weren’t there. Again. Second hissy fit of the day followed (Gawd being a total fashion bitch can be exhausting lemme tell ya…)
Third row this time. The collection was really good: soft textures and colors made it for a whole classic ethereal look. I would totally  wear some of the pieces! That if like my mom gave me Bloomingdale’s gift card for my birthday. Oh wait that happened to Sam not me. NEXT!

After waiting at Starbucks for like an hour and a half (and walking three avenues in six inches heels that I so appropriately decided to wear for the occasion) We made it back to the Altman building for the Karen Walker show. I was actually on the list this time! Shocker!!! But Stacy, Kelly, and Alex weren’t, so we had to smuggle them inside. Third row! Gift bags! Oh did I mention the gift bags? I have a drugstore worth of anti-wrinkle cream in my apartment now. I guess I’ll never grow old…Sweeeeeet.

It started raining cats and dogs outside (sorry, I always wanted to use that expression, since i think is the most hilarious/retarded in the whole english language) Anyway, there was not a single free taxi in sight in Manhattan and we got soaked.

Actually they did. I was smart enough to bring an umbrella. Sorreee dudes!

We had a wooping three hours to kill until our next show, so we decided to go  to the Ksubi party, at this new space called Mini Rooftop, super early. Thank god there was also a huge loft space besides the rooftop, furnished with huge white couches and an open bar …. all for ourselves. Did I get drunk, you may ask? Moi? No, not at all…

Here are hotnessess Leann and Stacy getting a beauty rest.

We met this super cute australian- via london-guy named Brendan, and of course decided to kidnap him right away. He came with us later back to Bryant Park to the Alexander Herchcovitch show and hung out for the rest of the evening.

Once at the show, of course, I had to throw another “Don’t you know who I am?!” speach  to get us in. Whatever, it was definitely worth it. After the show, we cabbed it back to the Ksubi Party…

I took this picture of the cobrasnake and co…

So he took this one of us…

It was close to midnight and everyone was passed effing point by then, especially Kelly ( as you can see in the pic above…)

After making a quick stop at Brendan’s friend apartment in Williamsburg, we collectively decided to call it a night.

Next morning, I could barely move. Every single bone hurt. My teeth hurt. I wanted to chop my feet off because I figured it’d be less painful. Would that make me miss the shows that we had planned? Hells NO! Not on FASSHIONN WEAK!

Tim Hamilton at Milk Studios. Wassssuuup.

  MALE MODELSSSSSSSSSS

People standing outside on the roof deck. Did I mention there were male models ?

Tuleh fashion show somewhere in Chelsea. First row. Apparently Martha Stewart was there. *YAWN*

Bathroom

Carlos Campos show at the Altman Building. Again. 

I have sworn never to wear heels ever again in my life. These things are torture devices. TORTURE I SAY!! AGHHHHH!

Anyway, after that one show, we went to the CC after party. Sadly, it was too lame to even bother taking pictures. Then we went to Vodkaandcranberry. I mean Pinkberry. Or something. 

Anyway, this has been my NY Fashion Week report so far…I’m hangover at work. And it’s just monday…

Stay tuned for more updates soon!

Adieu.