Fashion week is a vortex—a metaphorical passageway into the imagination. I carry my camera with me every day, to capture the staggering stimulation on the streets, at shows, and everywhere else it appears.
At Christopher John Rodgers, I went backstage, where the higher the hair got, the closer I felt to heaven. The runway stretch was perfectly lit, and as I watched the models walk, I was happy to see so many women of color, whose skin dazzled and caused an infectiously confident roar. Rodgers is a magician it seems. In my euphoric dream world, everyone wears his clothes. I still think Maryam Nassir Zadeh is the definition of cool—this was cemented in my mind by the way her models effortlessly draped against the fence of a Lower East Side park, the chosen location for her show. Yet the subways and sidewalks were just as compelling, where everyone had their own runway and the freedom to explore the fantasies we want to create.
Photos by Sabrina Santiago.