6:56AM: I finally wake up after about 14 alarms of robot sounds, then take a cold shower and start compositing a feature image for Leandra’s morning review.
7:45AM: I’m wearing one shoe. Everything else I own is on the floor. I can’t see the floor anymore. I decide to layer a whole bunch of shit, because the projected forecast is hot sweaty so naturally I gravitate toward long sleeves. My roommate says that I look like a Japanese school girl, therefore I think, “Cool!!!”
10:00AM: I briefly stop at the office and then head to Sant Ambroeus to deliver the Man Repeller plate I made for an art series curated by the stylish Alireza. André Leon Talley is there wearing his typical uniform of a magnificent cape. I eat a delicious breakfast and desert, because chocolate in the morning is never a bad idea.
11:21AM: On my way back from the bathroom I hear a voice bellow, “You! Come over here.” It’s André. He dramatically gestures as he asks, “Who are you and what are you wearing?” proceeding to pick apart my outfit piece by piece. He then introduces me to his brunch mate Whoopi, as is Whoopi Goldberg ([email protected]%$^*~!!) and I may be more excited to see her than to see him. I feel like a doll in some surreal dream as they fawn over me the same way your great Aunt Marge would at a cousin’s wedding. We chatted for a bit. André referred to my outfit as a “wonderful fashion moment” and Whoopi said the material of my dress resembled the “way a bubble reflects light.” I should probably stop my day here. It is MADE.
12:00 ish: I hustle to Hood by Air. Everyone is insanely hip and wearing black. I spot an old friend who got the memo and sports dark lipstick and sneakers. Now I feel like I’m dressed for a tea party on the Upper East Side. Shayne Oliver’s collection is subversive and dark per usual, we see a model on crutches, a great dane, a live choir and it’s all awesomely exciting. Hats off to him for being so weird.
1:00 ish: DKNY is fun and fresh. The models bounce around to a loud pulsating beat and the styling confirms that stripes and braids really are all the rage for spring ’15. Outside, the fashion paparazzi go nuts and I accidentally photobomb a lot of pictures of models hugging as I try to escape from all the hullabaloo.
1:45PM: I race back to the office to make sure everything is set for the Ostwald Helgason review that’s slated to go up at 2:30. I rapidly save and caption images, make a collage, and do a quick once over.
2:30PM: Boom! It’s live! I breathe, but only for a second because 3 more reviews are going up later. Brb, gotta stalk the Internet for photos.
4:45PM: The door opens — it’s Amelia! I talk at her a mile a minute realizing I have only been conversing with myself for the past few hours. We discuss content for the following day and I begin to prep imagery.
6:02PM: Amelia departs for Edun and I hammer out some thoughts on what I saw today while I wait for images to be posted that I can throw into the evening review.
7:44PM: The review is live! Going to finish my piece and then meet a friend for dinner.
7:51PM: I get an e-mail from Leandra asking who can cover the Opening Ceremony show, which is actually a one act play written by Spike Jonze and Jonah Hill. I happily oblige and then quickly stand up to make my way there, but realize I may keel over since I forgot to eat in between breakfast and now.
8:16PM: I am at Chipotle. I look more out of place here than I did at Hood by Air. My Southern California roots shame me for eating at a Mexican chain, but I have no regrets… except for the fact I could barely make a dent in my burrito bowl before running out the door.
8:33PM: In a cab. I smell like onions. Oh no. What if Spike Jonze falls in love with me from a far but then gets a whiff and runs the other way? Do I have time to get gum?
8:53PM: I’m here. I didn’t have time to get gum. I quietly read the program and try not to breathe on anyone.
9:08PM: The curtains part revealing that the risers we sit on are actually situated in the backstage area of the Metropolitan Opera, physically positioning us behind the scenes as we now face the front of the house. The audience emits a collective gasp.
9:09PM- 9:45PM: I love Opening Ceremony for taking a risk, letting creative people in a completely different medium take charge of their fashion show, and most of all for being able to laugh at themselves. The performance is a full blown satire poking fun at fashion but smartly allows us to get a good look at the collection, which from where I’m sitting looks pretty damn good.
9:47PM: The show closes with the cast belting out Drake’s “Hold on We’re Going Home.” The final part of the performance entails that we walk through the Met Opera to exit. After staring at the clothes on stage we can now interact with them on the way out. I go to congratulate a friend on her performance and in doing so trip over a cord and step on Spike Jonze. Oops.
10:24PM: I’m in a cab. I didn’t have the heart to tell the driver we were going all the way to Brooklyn so he’s going to drop me downtown by the train. Should I go to the OC party? Oh, there’s Whole Foods. I need groceries. “Sir, can you pull over here?”
10:47PM: I have aimlessly wandered around Whole Foods for 20 minutes now. It’s closing at 11. I am not hungry. I leave with a Kombucha.
11:06PM: I am in cab numero dos. I’ve nixed the idea of the party.
12:11AM: Finally in bed. By some miracle, my Apple TV decided to start working again so I am half watching “The Cosmos” while editing my story and eating the overly sweet Karlie Kloss “Kookie” from the OC gift bag. I wonder if there are some weird-ass Freaky Friday powers in this cookie and tomorrow I will wake up transformed into Karlie. We’ll see in the morning.