Covering fashion week for those in the know is an exercise in madness. From registering with MBFW, writing off to designer pr reps requesting press accreditation ( a miserable exercise in slobbering) to then assigning writers and photographers and from there cursing every writer and photographer in turn who takes far too long to hand in their submission and me the editor going a smidgen kooky dealing with that shit.
These days I don’t make a run to the shows as much as I used to. I have come to the conclusion it’s an exercise best left to those who lavish fashion and the zest that attending shows brings.
Fortunately or unfortunately as it may these days I seem to have a predisposition towards writing about the peril of social mores and the misadventures in ethics, the transient, society, celebrity and anything that screams: ‘I am a the embodiment of the human condition as an ironical juxtopisition. But enough on tabloid theory.’
Let’s talk about the madness of covering fashion shows on the beat. The following made my way this afternoon courtesy of one of our contributors, Dimitria Parisis, whose job it was to go from one part of the city to the other so she could get her scoop. A total of four shows.
To say her email below didn’t bring out a wicked smile on my end would be a betrayal. Yes some of us are more braver and crazier and then the other. Talk about the absurd….
Sometime circa 12pm this Sunday as Dimitria was running down the street in her best fashion ensemble trying to make the first of four shows today…..
Me: Where are you? Are you getting to the shows? I still haven’t heard from you!!
And this arrived in the email box:
My entrance situation at Diego Binetti was not exactly ideal. This Hawt bixch landed herself stuck in a freight elevator with a scruffy camera man and a fierce as hell fashion boy who had HAD IT. “Why couldn’t this be at milk like everyone else!,” he cried.
After the freight opened at the wrong floor, the three of us walked our way through dark hallways with locked staircases. As I made my way through the endless spooky corridors with two complete strangers, I pulled out my iPhone and clicked on the flashlight, always thinking in the back of my mind that one of these bixches could potentially kill me.
When we finally made it to the show we got more than we bargained for, we were backstage!
As it was too late to take our seats the PR ladies directed us towards the model lineup and we anxiously waited to catch a glimpse of the models AFTER walking the runway and returning backstage.
Yet again this Vagabond ended up in the right place at the right time. Diego Binetti’s collection was just as fascinating and whimsical as usual, and being in the center of the backstage action was a true treat.
The nicest part was seeing the designer greet every model with a hug and kiss as they excited the runway. A truly lovely moment.