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All I Did Was Eat During New York Fashion Week

I have spent such a large portion of my life talking about, thinking about and consuming food that it regularly blows my mind when someone forgets to eat. I have run out of time to eat, but I have never forgotten about it. I have left my sandwich in the back seat of a cab, a slice of pizza in the hands of an untrustworthy drunk friend and a granola bar on the kitchen counter even though literally no one wakes up and goes, “Man you know what I’m craving? Honey-flavored cat litter and the opportunity to break my teeth.” When I neglect to eat I become, as those Snickers commercials suggest, something other than myself entirely. I whine. I threaten to faint. I certainly do not pay attention during fashion shows — especially because a piece of fruit could appear in the form of an appliqué or print without a single trigger warning.

Because of this I have made eating a priority this Spring 2017 fashion week, particularly over the weekend.

Saturday

7:00 A.M. I woke up with plans to do big things today: to get next week’s writing out of the way early, pick up dry cleaning and be a productive member of society. As they say in the old country, it’s the thought that counts.

8:00 A.M. Let’s try this again. I walked to Toby’s in my pajamas for coffee and ricotta on sourdough toast with honey and almond slivers (it’s the shiiiiiiitttt) — the kind of pajamas that are not cool to wear to fancy dinners and would make your boss ask HR to monitor your life habits — went back home and got dressed for a Paul Andrew presentation. Getting dressed was blessedly easy because I am currently in the midst of a fun experiment where I wear exactly what Allure‘s Accessories Director Nicole Chapoteau tells me to wear. If you are riveted then I have done my job. Leave them wanting more.

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10:00 A.M. Paul Andrew, who was recently announced as the new women’s footwear designer at Salvatore Ferragamo, showed a strong collection Spring ’17 shoes that were Céline-y in good way because A) what isn’t these days and B) it’s hard to detach a reference once you’ve made note of it. His basket-weave ballet flats are the shoes everyone will have next year. My favorite season of his so far.

After, I crossed over the West Side Highway where I ran into Katie Sturino who was driving and stopped traffic to wave for my Instagram story. (That is my new friendship requirement: cause a roadblock for the betterment of my social media accounts or you’re dead to me.) There was a breeze, there were sailboats, I was hungry. And so I walked to Adam Lippes. In addition to great design, his presentations are known for their pastries.

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These shoes are part of the Adam Lippes x Malone Soulier collaboration and they are insane and I LOVE THEM.

12:30 P.M. Lunch at Sant Ambroeus outside with Leandra where we talked reviews and strategy. Regarding food for me: smoked salmon, avocado, sunflower bread and Italian whipped cream cheese.

2:00 P.M. Tibi, which I loved. I loved the clothes and that so many friends were there and that I got to see Nahman-comma-Haley. Amy Smilovic draws the crowd because everyone wants to to wear what she makes, and she makes it so that they can.

3:00 P.M. Due to traffic and a bit of last-minute scheduling confusion, I did not attend Dion Lee, but I did head home to write about it. After, Leandra and I had round two of snacks before Jonathan Simkhai at this Mediterranean place where I really got into the relaxed groove and left my iPad — which I only realized I left once I found myself standing in the middle of this DISGUSTING “frozen yogurt place” on a street I won’t even tell you about so that you don’t try to go (fine it’s on Spring and 6th Avenue right next to the subway stop; they sell sugar-free candy too if you enjoy bloating for the sake of skirting cavities?).

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A blackout followed shortly after. Speaking of sugar, listen to me: never let me have rainbow colored sprinkles. I cannot be trusted and my insulin levels literally cannot process them.

6:00 P.M. Home to write but instead I took a nap. It was weird of me. I hate napping. I woke up in a cold sweat and thought it was Monday. Worked until 9 P.M. (honestly this is all so thrilling I am wondering whether or not you’ve had a sensory-overload-induced seizure yet). Obviously I ate a bowl of Thai food. I couldn’t finish the rest because of a 9:30 dinner, so put in the fridge for later then threatened my roommate not to eat it. Is this what it’s like to be a wolf? Always protecting your food? Worrying about it when you’re not in front of it?

9:30 P.M. Dinner with my friend Phil who is in town from Brazil, Oliver who lives here but is never around plus a bunch of other cool people at an Italian restaurant. You will either be proud of me or disappointed: I did not eat. Had a glass of wine, though.

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11:00 P.M. Hauled ass uptown in a cab to Pier Nine and Three Quarters for the Alexander Wang afterparty which was, to quote dads in traffic worldwide, a madhouse. I saw my friends, stayed for twenty minutes, got a Slurpee, saw none of the performers although the lineup was apparently stupid to miss, felt my feet start to flip me off and left — but not without first grabbing McDonald’s French fries, which were being handed out as party favors. I’m sure it was ironic but can salt that good ever be ingested inauthentically?

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12:00 A.M. Forgot I had to finish writing something. A swan dive into bed followed shortly.

Sunday

7:00 A.M. I am but a farmer without a rooster. Coffee, depressing oatmeal because I was trying to make one smart choice today, review time. (I was writing Alexander Wang.) Just as a I finished, my dad showed up. Eric Diamond: My personal Uber who actually prefers when I sit in the front seat.

12:00 P.M. Tome! It made me so happy.

1:00 P.M. You will never guess what happened next: Leandra, Danielle Prescod and I went to Tipsy Parson in Chelsea. I had scrambled eggs on a biscuit with bacon and spicy jelly. I wanted to fall into a coma shortly after but La Perla was calling me!

2:00 P.M. I crashed Danielle’s La Perla appointment (they’re doing Ready-to-Wear now and had knit shorts plus the world’s sexiest blazer ever) and lounged around on the couch, which wasn’t not a chaise, with my shirt off (because I tried on the blazer then got hot) as though I were Eloise at the Plaza on an errand with her mother.

2:30 P.M. J.Crew, where life lessons were learned and my old boss from New York, Jenny Kang, one of my most favorite humans ever, was modeling. She had a jumpsuit on and a baby in her belly. Earlier that week, she told me that that baby is the size of a head of cauliflower. Do not worry. I was thinking about food, but not about eating her baby.

J.Crew Spring/Summer '17 (Photo by Catwalking/Getty Images)

3:00 P.M. Home to write, sit in front of the air conditioning, listen to this one Frank Ocean song on repeat and then pick myself right back up again for Altuzarra — but just before I walked out the door I remembered something: the Thai food.

Roommate did not eat it (which means his life was spared), so I did. Win/win.

5:00 P.M. Altuzarra. Fruits on the runway were the cherry on top of the collection. Do I write headlines professionally? Maybe.
6:00 P.M. Ask and ye shall receive: I told Shiona Turini, Leandra ‘Top Lip’ Medine and Nicole Chapoteau that I was hungry, so we got a bite to eat. Our drinks looked like they belonged on Sex and the City which, if you read the review I linked to above, was very theme-of-the-day.

7:00 P.M. Prabal followed, and then, finally, a dinner for Cushnie et Ochs at Kola House where I spent the whole time talking about psychics.

11:00 P.M. Home, where I swan dove yet again into bed before realizing I still had to write reviews and this post, both for Monday morning. I set my alarm knowing well the AM was going to be a race to the finish that would likely break my damn fingertips, but what’s fashion week without a little drama?

NYFW-SS17

Amelia Diamond

Amelia Diamond

Amelia Diamond is a writer, creative consultant, and Man Repeller alumnus living in New York City.

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