How to survive fashion week

I won this competition to go to Mercedes Benz Fashion Week last week (you may have noticed my entry on this blog). Big thank you to Vogue and Ausmode for organizing the comp! Having never been to a fashion week, or day, or hour, before, this was all very exciting. A glimpse at the world that goes on outside the thrift stores I usually get my fashion fix from. A world where you can wear 10cm high heels everywhere and no one will think you’re overdressed. A world where a man in towering stilettos and a bright red feather fascinator is a revered figure.

It being my first, and probably last, fashion week I wanted to soak it all in. I learnt a lot. I thought I’d share some of my new knowledge with you, in case you ever have the chance to experience this amazing cultural tradition first hand.

1. Always bring a pair of flats in your handbag. Or just wear your sneakers to the show. True fashionistas suffer through the pain of platforms all day, but luckily for us mortals sneakers are perfectly acceptable fashion week footwear. As long as they have big plastic flowers on them or something.

2. Wear wack stuff. I mean, if you can’t afford some amazing designer trenchcoat with a straw collar, just wear heaps of wack stuff. No one cares if everything you wear comes from op shops as long as you look like a rainbow threw cowboy and soldier costumes all over you.

3. Strong legs do strut down many of the runways. Not everyone is super skinny. Don’t feel bad about shoving down a burger or some sushi just before a show. I’m sure you still look amazing. And if you sneak around the backstage, you’ll see all the models doing it too.

4. If you are a designer and you don’t want your models taking off their too-big heels and spraying cotton wool over the runway, put them in Docs like LF Markey.

5. By the end of the week, most people stop going to the show and you’ll probs maybs get bumped up to the front row.

How not to behave at an art opening

My friend had an art opening last week. She had been working so hard for it and totally deserved to relax and enjoy her opening in her lovely polka dot dress. She did not deserve to be picking up her artwork after I kicked it over. Ooops.

Before you jump to conclusions let me explain. I had on clunky platform shoes. I was feeling distinctly uncool and awkward around all the well-dressed gallery goers. And I didn’t realise how close I was standing to one of the works (engaged in some thrilling conversation about a crappy work week no doubt) until I kicked it over and everyone inhaled sharply and glared at me.

The artist handled the situation with aplomb, she casually left her conversation, strode over, picked up the piece, righted it and returned to her conversation as though nothing was out of the ordinary. That’s how you should behave at an opening.

As for me, I’d say some flat footwear and some fancy footwork are required before any more forays into the art world.

Getting ready v. going out

Getting ready is when you can play DJ, blast your choice of music (be it Prince, Beyonce, or Wu-Tang, unless you’re like me and then it’s all three) out of your speakers. There’s none of those “filler” tracks you have to put up with at the club.

Going out you might hear something you love but haven’t got round to putting on your itunes, or something completely new. You could hold your phone up and find out the name of the band, or ask a beguiling stranger you’ve had your eye on if they know.

Getting ready you are your own stylist, you can prance around in a million different outfits, imagine yourself gliding across the d-floor in your heels. Going out often ends with your heels slung over your shoulder, or the distinct feeling you would’ve been happier in your PJs.

Going out you get to perve on other people, people-watching is the new porn. Everyone is looking their absolute best (until the night turns and it’s their absolute worst). You get to make new friends in the bathrooms, sharing make up tips or lipstick.

Getting ready you can talk about anything you want, be as loud as you want, drink as much as you want (as long as you live close to a bottle shop). You are with a band of friends, you are invincible.

Going out you might have to raise your voice above the music, then lower it again to avoid looks from the table next to you. You might end up engaged in a political debate with a complete stranger and realize the alcohol’s causing you to lose. But you could also meet someone who says their favorite book is the same as yours and writes their number on the inside cover of another book they are recommending to you.

Getting ready holds all the promise, all the potential, which would all be wasted if we just stayed at home.

Sage advice

(from one of my characters)

 

“You’re young.
God knows you’ve been through a lot in your short years.
Your 20s are the start of your adult life, and it’s normal to feel completely lost.
I spent my 20s in a hateful relationship, hating myself and everyone else who was happy.
I didn’t feel truly secure until my 30s.
Go explore, experiment, get lost, try to find yourself.
Your 20s are the time to do it.”