As much as the idea of going to New York Fashion Week makes me the happiest person on the planet (no seriously, I would sell my mother to go again), the thought of having to pack for it makes me sweat profusely.
I’ve seen all these fashion folk on Twitter stressing about what to pack for fashion week. And as much as deep down I’m saying, “seriously, shut the hell up, you are going to Mecca and you don’t even care …I hate your face a little,” I kind of sympathize with them.
I’m a notoriously bad packer. If I’m going to a tropical place where all I need is a couple of bathing suits and cover ups, I’ll end up bringing like a ball gown, a suit in case, you know, I get a job interview, and a sweatshirt and sweatpants … because wonder if a freak cold front hits Jamaica?! The what-ifs destroy me … and my packing methods … or lack their of.
Going to Fashion Week for the first time was intimidating. Do you dress avant-garde to set the style standard and get noticed by Street Style photogs? Or do you go the “all-black editor route” and just be a wall flower? Well, I went the “all-black editor route” and paired it with fierce 4-inch heels with spikes going up the back for a little jazz, if you will. I had this awful vision of dressing to impress and having Street Style photogs beg for my photograph, because I’m THAT cool, and as I placed my hand on my hip to pose, I topple over my 4 inch heels only to be left a fashion disaster on the steps of Lincoln Center. Yep, all-black wallflower it is.
Options are a must. I like all of my options in front of me so I can pick and choose and play around. The idea of planning ahead and thinking about what to wear to what show specifically … well … like I said … makes me sweat profusely. My biggest fear would be getting dressed, looking for that bold gold cuff I have, and realizing I didn’t bring it … leaving me desperately craving it and feeling unfinished. How do you go on?!
So with all of that being said, unless I can bring my entire wardrobe, like Kate Winslet-style in Titanic, I have no interest in going to silly New York Fashion Week. Psh :::flips hair::: The style stress alone would kill me, because God knows I would pack jean shorts and a crop top instead of my go-to LBD. Ahh how glorious it is to be stress-free. Jealous, fashion folk?
Clearly just kidding. Don’t mind me … that is just my Fashion Week FOMO talking. :::Sigh:::