© Getty Images for Mercedez-Benz 2011
O
n a freezing Saturday morning in NYC, I woke up with butterflies in my stomach. It was a combination of nerves and excitement—that feeling you get when you don’t know what adventure may lie ahead, but you know it’s going to be a good one. It was with this feeling that I dressed, hopping on one foot while putting my other into a pair of black skinny jeans and pulling on a black top before zipping up my black booties. As cliché as it sounds, when you’re in NYC and you have no idea what to wear, you can never go wrong with black. I slipped the gold Positano Chain and Blue Agate Rock Anchor from my jewelry collection around my neck before sliding my arms into a camel trench. I heard sounds from the Today show in the background as I looked outside the hotel window at the cluster of buildings standing stoic and silent against the mayhem of honking and yelling and hustle and bustle of people on the streets below. With a jolt it hit me, as if I had been transported to that place and time for one purpose—Fashion Week. It was my first time ever to attend and I had to be at a show in a little over an hour. I wrapped a black pashmina around my neck for good measure and exited the Ink48 hotel into a blast of blustery morning wind.
Designer: Michael Kors; Photo by Frazer Harrison
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I started noticing a trend. Tiny children dressed as fashionistas were standing next to their very fashionable mothers. On the cab ride over to Lincoln Center, the butterflies in my stomach flapped away as birds swooped low across the Hudson to my right. When we pulled up to Lincoln Center, I tried to take everything in: the media trailers swathed in Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week banners where I picked up my press pass; the Lincoln Center steps flashing “Welcome” in hundreds of different languages; and the row of town cars lining the streets. We crossed the giant threshold with the fountain leading to the entrance of Fashion Week at the center’s Damrosch Park, past the plethora of photographers snapping away at anyone stylish or unique enough to be worthy of the effort it took to raise cameras to their welltrained eyes. We walked under the black MercedesBenz Fashion Week awning, upstairs and past velvet ropes, flashing our badges to the men dressed in black and wearing headsets who nodded as we passed. Then, finally, we opened the doors into a world I had only dreamed of experiencing. When the doors shut behind us, it took a second for my eyes to adjust to the mayhem surrounding me. The first thing I noticed were the women (or were they men?) towering above me in sky-high heels and tight leather pants. I saw fur coats in every shape and size. I saw hats everywhere: hats with feathers, a cap made of hot pink mesh, top hats tilted on bobbing heads. I noticed groups