T
his season of New
York Fashion Week,
I was lucky enough
to
assist
the
production
team at an anonymous (shh!)
designer label in a two-
day, get-shit-done conquest
leading up to their fall winter
2017 show. Here’s how it went
down, in real time.
Day Before Show
2:03 p.m.: My room key is
MIA, my shoes are soaked
and I just spent an entire 30
minutes next to Kyle Mooney
on the train without saying a
word.
Craziest street style of the
day has to go to my man,
Winter Storm Niko. He’s
wound up in every single
photo, for better or worse.
Look out, Vogue.com! I start
my unpaid job at 3. Hopefully
no one at the showroom is
bothered by my discolored
Nike combat boots.
4:21 p.m.: At Starbucks
(again) on a break after
working for an hour —
grueling.
The
showroom
is incredible, all glitz and
gilded. Everyone is terribly
nice. I organized expensive
underwear for the expensive
fashion show, took inventory
of more nice things and
stripped models of their less
expensive clothes, stuffing
their limbs into colorful,
avant-garde confections. One
model told me all about the
laser eye surgery she had in
Australia. This coffee tastes
like chorizo. I can’t find my
water bottle. Sad!
Two of my fellow interns
just walked in. Have you
guys seen a blue water bottle?
No? I’m about to walk into a
world-class showroom just
to search for a half-broken
water bottle. At least they’ll
know that I mean business.
I’m already bored here and
I’m praying I will have some
incredibly
time-consuming
task to go back to. That
showroom is the bedroom my
12-year-old self so desperately
wanted. Come to think of it,
this life is all my 12-year-old
self could have asked for. She
would be so proud.
9:04 p.m.: All right, now it’s
really over for the day. I run
around town in search of a
FedEx, only to find it hidden
in the basement of a Sheraton
(a
Sheraton?),
down
the
street from the showroom.
I accidentally walk in on the
designer’s model fittings. I
helped make the executive
decision
of
what
pants
Kylie will wear to the show
tomorrow. Full disclosure:
She doesn’t own half of the
merch
in
her
Instagram
photos. The designer loan is
an age-old trick of the trade.
My boss seems to like me,
and I’m liking her more and
more by the minute — if
corporate love really does
exist, I think I’ve found it. On
my way out for the night, she
gave me a shirt to wear to the
show tomorrow: A politically
charged plain white tee,
listing the phone numbers of
every state’s Congressional
representatives. Tell me again
how “frivolous” fashion is,
Jake Tapper. Tell me again.
Show Day
9:54 p.m.: I’ve been working
since 10 a.m. Can’t talk. Too
much. After-party in a few.
The Morning After
9:38 a.m.: I’m feeling so
many things — my legs are
jelly and my stomach is
growling. I’m proud and
scared for the team all at
once. Speaking only in terms
of the 20-minute span in
which models paraded the
runway,
everything
was
perfect. Beautiful, kitschy
pieces that hugged the body
like a supermodel’s second
skin.
Logistically, though, last
night was a textbook example
of how one powerful person
can foil an entire company’s
expertly-planned production.
I won’t go into detail, but
imagine a GSI stepping into
your
semester-long
group
project only to swap out its
most reliable members in
favor of his or her friends.
That would never happen
(read: Leaders and the Best),
but you get the picture.
Last night taught me that
what’s out of my control may
suck, but that it will never
take away from what is in
my hands. Those seat cards
I made? Mad awesome —
Arial bold has never looked
better. Gossip session with
Fern Mallis? She’ll probably
remember my name for
three whole days.
In
all
seriousness,
I’m so proud of what I
accomplished alongside the
rest of my team. Their free
Moët at the after-party was
well, well deserved.
2B
Managaing Editor:
Lara Moehlman
Deputy Editors:
Yoshiko Iwai
Brian Kuang
Photo Editor:
Zoey Holmstrom
Editor in Chief:
Emma Kinery
Managing Editor:
Rebecca Lerner
Copy Editors:
Danielle Jackson
Taylor Grandinetti
Wednesday, February 15, 2017 // The Statement
In Excess: A Stream of Fashion Week Consciousness
ILLUSTRATION BY OLIVIA STILLMAN
BY TESS GARCIA, SENIOR ARTS EDITOR
statement
THE MICHIGAN DAILY | FEBRUARY 15, 2017