Five Journalistic Questions: NYFW
Happy September and welcome to the beginning of fashion month, also known as Public Relations Anxiety Month or Self-Unawreness Season.It is a magical time when flocks of people converge on five particular cities (Paris, London, New York, Milan, Paris) and try their darndest to end up on a fashion publication’s daily style roundup. (We also look at clothes, elbow our way into open bar events, and spend the week describing every show as “so good” in an octave or two higher than our regular speaking voices!) In this edition, I’ll be bantering about an unexpected style star whose casual style is inspiring me to use what’s in my closet this week, why I partake in this biannual extreme sport, what I’m taking with me to NYFW and what I’m leaving at home (hint: it’s ego).
When: September 8 (really the 6th)-13, 2023
Where: New York, duh. However, I’m going to take this opportunity to implore the powers that be (CFDA) to centralize the shows à la 1994-the first recession. Please! Every show feels like Fashion’s Night Out (throwback) and Uber is not regulated enough to be zipping between the Upper East Side, Canarsie, and Yonkers to stand in 45 minute lines in 90° for a 15 minute show. I swear, it’s a popular opinion (amongst internet close friends).
Why: I love it. Every show is like prom or what I imagine a high school reunion to be if everyone was on uppers. Friends, enemies, and frenemies arrive from out of town and we spend a week dressing up, networking, conceptualizing, Prosecco-ing and looking six months into the future at emerging trends and market offerings. My favorite part is getting locked out if shows with strangers. It creates a real sense of camaraderie— a kinship really. (Working in fashion also beats selling Herbalife or Vector knives. Hahah)
Who: I finally stopped fighting the force and became a Pintrest Princess. On one of my daily scrolls of inspirations and ideas, I came across a set of paparazzi photos of the Obama sisters leaving a party in LA that threw me for a loop! They looked fantastic: so grown, so confident like they knew what they brought to the room, and slightly drunk. I was so proud. The emerging socialite era wasn’t the only thing that had me buzzing with excitement but also the ensembles that consisted of mixed prints (Malia), baggy cargoes and lingerie (Sasha). I knew these were not first timers. This realization made me feel out of the loop and it felt essential to know more. Hence, the rabbit hole. Conclusion? Those sisters have AMAZING style! Malia and her endless collection of random t-shirts, Birkenstocks and New Balances. Sasha and her bohemian skirts paired with forest green quilted sandals, sneakers, and her ubiquitous bellybutton ring. It’s unfortunate that the only source for this information are tabloids but it is amazing to see how they show up in the world from one day to the next. Workouts, coffee pickups, dates,and lunches, it’s interesting to see how they douse fashion into their lives as they undertake adulthood.
I’m a sucker for casual outfits over quote-unquote looks. Everyone’s striving to have a moment with outfits that talk over each other and thus missing the point by creating a lot of noise but saying nothing of real import. As an acolyte of the top-bottom-shoes-maybe an accessory rubric of style, I love to see how people style themselves when the expectation to show up as an entity or preconceived notion is absent. The Obama sisters post-White House style, combined and separate, not only reflects two adults moving though life and responsibility but also juts the expectation of how high profile political children are supposed to be, act, behave. They’re having fun, not living in the identities or shadows of their parents. And though, it’s inconsistent with my beliefs about their privacy, I do hope to see more of them (possibly some coverage in heritage fashion publications in lieu of tabloid rags?).
What:
What I’m Bringing with Me:
Margiela Mary Janes: Yes, I know the current controversy and that the men of Bushwick have declared war on my soles. No, I do not care. They are comfortable and great for running up and down subway stairs. They coordinate with every outfit and present the illusion of care. For the next five days, my main goal is to move about the city with a sense of elevated ease. I can be uncomfortable at night with a cocktail and seat.
Gauze: First, there was Tory Burch’s S/S ‘23 collection that showcased layered transparent skirts and structured tunics. That collection still has my heart. Then came this covert battle that’s currently happening about nipples which intrigued (see: inspired) me to purchase a sheer top. It arrived last week from my yearly Tibi sale haul and I’m still debating whether to bra or not to bra. We’ll see what I decide when there’s a show at 10:30 am in Brooklyn and it’s 9:45 am and I’m still above 155th Street.
Sunnei rubber earrings: I have been feigning over the rubberized Sunnei earrings for two years before I finally pulled the trigger at the SSENSE sale and bought two pairs. They’re the perfect blend of function and quirk, just like me and will add the perfect topper to a week of ease since I plan to keep things laid back and breezy because the heat index will always win and I don’t want to be fidgeting, readjusting, and consumed by thoughts of sweat stains. I’m keeping things as routine as possible so my accessories will pick up where my clothes slack off and add some necessary…zhuzh.
The Velvet Rope: It’s my favorite work by Janet [Jackson] and it’s the perfect album to remain chill in the midst of chaos and mayhem. I’m writing to this album as we “speak”. (Close second: Kelela’s Raven album.)
Megababe Thigh Rescue: Again, it’s supposed to be 90º+ all week!
Private Stock Masks: Covid cases are rising and I’m not getting lifelong brain fog for Spring/Summer collections.
What I’m leaving at home:
Ego/entitlement: The most important thing on this list by far. I have this talk with myself every season: At the end of the day fashion week, no matter what city or capacity you attend, is a weeklong trade show. It’s no different than Frieze or the Milan Furniture Fair. Though it’s nice to spectate, be in the mix, attend the parties and be seen, it is work. Be kind. Get in, get your bag, and get out.
Doing too much: My best looks have been the ones already in my closet that require the least amount of thought. Leave the peacocking at home– unless that’s natural to you.
Mental Health: I’ll get it back next week. Lol There’s no space in the chaos or the schedule for mental wellness. I’ll take three deep breaths in the $50 Uber.
Imposter Syndrome: The rooms I’m in, I deserve to be there and the rooms I'm not just don’t know my name yet…but they will.
I think I can wrap it here. Hahah Thank you so much for reading this latest dispatch. Tell a friend to tell a friend to tell a friend and I’ll be back in 2 weeks. 🫶🏽
