We might only be two days into fashion week, but that’s plenty of time for things to go terribly wrong. The week started out great! My flight left SFO at 9:45am — a civilized hour indeed. The flight was on time, and I flew on Virgin with its soothing pastel lighting, wifi, and non-cranky flight attendants. We departed from SFO’s new terminal two, where I consumed a delicious coffee and croissant while seated the cushy comfort of a mid century modern read leather egg chair. After that, things start getting interesting.
1. I board the pane and sit in my aisle seat. Moments later a woman with a squirming eight-month-old sits in the middle seat across the aisle from me. I LOVE BABIES! I am not hating on babies. In fact I am trying to adopt one, SO THERE. But I kind of don’t want to give her my seat. Maybe I’m a bad person. But I have to pee a lot! I have a pea-sized bladder. But then something wonderful happens. A woman with an 18-month-old sits right next to the mom with the littler baby. Mom friends! Yay, they are totally bonding and I am off the hook. But of course I am not at all off the hook. The flight attendant informs us that two lap babies in one row are not allowed because there are only four oxygen masks per row. He asks me to switch, so of course I do. And I cannot in good conscious allow the woman with the baby to fly across the country in the middle seat. At one point mom and baby are sound asleep, and I have to pee REAL bad. I have enough friends with children to know how precious sleeping is. So I climb over them and the poor mom is startled awake just as my derriere is precariously close to her baby’s head. Sorry guys.
2. I’m staying at the New Yorker hotel, which is really great! Except for when I try to check in and my card is DECLINED. That part sucks. Turns out the bank has a daily limit. I call the husband, he has the bank increase the limit. Crisis averted, whew! What else could possibly go wrong?
3. Oh, well I could totally end up in Harlem on the subway instead of at Lincoln center and miss my first two fashion shows. But OK, the bad shit is finished happening, right? I’m at Lincoln center and back on track.
4. I have a front row seat at Rebecca Taylor! Sitting next to Kelly Framel of The Glamourai This is awesome! Things are looking up! (A snafu respite.)
5. High off of my Rebecca Taylor experience, I head to Nicole Miller. STANDING. Bummer. Then you’ll never guess what happens! A nice security man says “come with me” and leads me to a FRONT ROW seat next to a crapload of celebrities with cameras flashing all around. I cannot even believe my luck, and of course I should not. As I’m about to sit, a handler taps my arm and says, “I’m about to seat Rachel here.” I’m about to protest! Then I see it’s Rachel Griffiths. Yeah that Rachel Griffiths. And her adorable little girl. OK FINE. Back to standing.
6. Alrighty! I go from front row to standing to… standing again for Cynthia Rowley. I herd outside the runway doors with the other 150 people who have standing tickets. I have flashbacks from a year previous when I’m standing in the exact same place waiting for Charlotte Ronson to begin, and was DENIED. All out of space, they said, sorry! People were pissed. That couldn’t possibly happen again! But guess what? IT TOTALLY DOES.
7. A 75-year old Bulgarian man tries to pick me up as I take a rest at the Lincoln Center fountain.
8. Did I mention my feet are bleeding because I’ve gone against my own advice and worn insane platforms?
9. After the encounter with the Bulgarian, I make my way to SOHO to meet my lovely fashion week partner in crime Shadin and her sister for dinner. When it’s time to pay, I can’t find my credit card. I’ll spare you the rest and just say it’s GONE. Nowhere to be found. And it’s my only card (long story of irresponsible credit card use). The good news: no errant charges and the bank can deliver a new card on Monday. The bad news? I have a weekend ahead of me in one of the most expensive cities in the world with NO MONEY.
10. Our room smells a little bit like sewage. Just sometimes!
Call me a masochist, but somehow I am still loving fashion week! That’s probably because there are lots of awesome things to go along with the bad. Stay tuned, I promise to shiny happy posts shortly!