CORINNE'S NEW YORK FASHION WEEK DIARY

February 19, 2019


10 February, 9:30am:

 

TGIS! Thank God it’s Sunday! I’m normally an early riser, but for the past week, I've been working twelve-hour days with school, my day job, and freelance production work for fashion week. So I let myself “sleep in”.  I don’t like to get out of bed straight away if I don’t have to, so I check my email, read my New York Times Weekend Briefing, scroll through Instagram until I realize it’s an hour later and if I don’t get up, I will go back to sleep. The only show I’m going to is LaQuan Smith at 9pm, so thankfully it is a slow day anyway.

 

 

 

10:30am:

 

Because my life is currently insanely busy, my apartment is a disaster. I threw a party for my birthday Friday night and haven’t had time to clean, so I am greeted by fifteen dirty wine glasses and nine empty bottles of champagne. Somehow, I motivate myself to wash them.

 

11:00am:

 

I finally get around to having breakfast (baguette and butter, because my Parisian habits will never die), and run to my local coffee shop to finally enter the world of the living.

 

12:00pm:

 

I get a wellness call from my kickboxing gym and feel guilty about not going to class. However, I still put on an episode of The Newsroom and start testing makeup and hair looks. I also eat some leftover birthday cake, which feels indulgent but #treatyoself.

 

1:30pm:

 

In testing makeup looks I have a crisis about how dull my skin looks, so I do two face masks (Eve Lom Rescue + Peter Thomas Roth Rose Stem Cell Bio-Repair) and take a shower.

 

 

 

2:30pm:

 

Feeling fresh! I’ve decided that styling clips (the kind hairdressers use) are a look that I must have, so I set out to find some.

 

 

 

 

2:45pm-5:00pm:

 

Rite Aid, CVS, Target, and four beauty supply stores have failed me. I am distraught and hair clip-less. HOWEVER, as I’m walking home, I see that my local consignment store is having a 60% off sale and I have 0 self-control (remember the cake). I try on several gorgeous things including this silk Prada dress, but end up with an Alaïa top and another pair of black tailored Armani pants.

 

5:00pm:

 

I barely make it up to my 4th-floor walkup.

 

4:35pm-6:00pm:

 

Because sometimes I forget that I am a student, I have not done any of my schoolwork this weekend. So I buckle down and do some reading for my Couture/Culture class on the relationship between Capitalism and Colonialism in fashion... and my head wants to Pop! Off! This is a PSA: you should think critically about how the fashion industry has developed and where your clothing is coming from. I could go into a long rant/lecture on this, but I will not.

 

6:00pm-7:00pm:

 

Please, dear God, do not follow my diet plan. I DO NOT eat healthily, because I’m indulgent and love comfort food. I make myself fettuccine alfredo for dinner and then have more cake.

 

 

7:00pm:

 

I finally get dressed, do my hair, and put on some makeup. I should just say that I really do have a boring uniform, and you can pry my black Armani tailored suits from my cold dead hands. I accent my predictable all-black look with some white accents, including a singular styling clip, pearls, and a vintage beaded purse from my grandmother.

 

 

 

8:20pm:

 

I must admit - the location of my apartment is ideal in that I live where all the trains in South Brooklyn meet. It takes me exactly 25 minutes to get anywhere. LaQuan Smith is at Spring Studios, so I hop on the A.

 

8:45pm-9:00pm:

 

As I am waiting in line (classic Spring Studios), I realize that it is very cold and that I am an idiot for not wearing a turtleneck. Luckily I have a seat assignment, so I get into the venue fairly quickly, snag a bottle of Evian ;), and head up to the gallery.

 

 

9:32pm:

 

After 32 minutes of me accidentally photobombing the Clermont Twins, photographers clear the runway and the show begins. I must say, LaQuan Smith is one of the more fun shows I’ve been to - the music is popping, Miss J (sitting across from me) is vibing, and people are wooing as models S*T*R*U*T* down the runway. Predictably, the clothing is mostly tight, sexy, and/or short, and while I know that 19-year-old me would have wanted it all, 22-year-old me feels old and conservative. But I’m still having fun. I am also convinced that I should be wearing patterns again because clearly plaid is very cool and I am missing out!!!

 

 
Sometime around 10:00pm:

 

The show ends. As usual, there is a mad dash for the elevators, but I make it out and back on the A train, so I can go the f**k to sleep!

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