The event was held at the Garfield Park Conservatory, which is really just a big glass building with lots of plants inside. I attended the pre-show schmoozing event alone with the intention of conquering my social anxiety, if just for a night!, and making an honest attempt to mingle. Yet, none of the other attendees said a single word to me. None. They were clad in Birkin bags and dripping blood diamonds, and I was the recipient of forced smiles and awkward stares. Going into the event I jokingly assumed that I would be ignored, but was kind of irked when it actually happened. The only other human being who acknowledged my presence in any sort of friendly a manner was a cocktail server who took sympathy upon my situation, and proceeded to keep my plastic cup flowing with mid-level champagne precisely garnished with a sprig of mint. A moderate buzz ensued. Not content to wallow in my wallflower status, free booze in tow, I set about exploring the artificial winding paths through the flora.
The sun shone just perfectly and the entire place was bathed in a soft, inviting light.
(aa mesh long sleeve and leggings, risto bimbiloski dress, spike necklace, chloe boots)
I got this spike necklace from a BDSM shop in Lakeview. I plan on wearing it all summer long.
Jamie. It was marked down to almost 90% off retail price. I picked up the falcon face print and another dress in the same style in a plaid print. I love being able to purchase clothes by my favorite designers at a price I can afford!
My outfit was inspired my 15-year-old mall goth self. In 1999, I was your typical suburban angsty psuedo-goth who shopped at Hot Topic and snuck out to raves and voted daily for KoRn to be on Total Request Live. I got into that lifestyle as a way to rebel, sure, but not in the way that you'd think. I was going through some heavy shit at the time and that was the only I knew how to, like, "deal" with it. It was a way for me to proclaim my disaffection from the suburban Abercrombie & Fitch zombies that trolled the halls at school, but also a way for me to create a visceral world that allowed me to escape from the real-life problems I was dealing with at the time. So the mall goth thing, while kind of pathetic (and hilarious, to me, at least), it is also a very associative. It reminds me of how I dealt with those issues at that time, utilizing what little emotional maturity that I had access to, what little life experience and subsequent resilience I had come to possess.
So it was a little disconcerting to be completely ignored in a grown-up social setting simply because I was wearing an outfit that poked fun at my awkward teen years. I mean, it's one thing for preppy high school Plastics to make fun of me because I was wearing Kikwear jeans...it's entirely different in a conservatory full of adults who supposedly like fashion and embrace dressing in unconventional ways. I wasn't simply ignored - I was actively gawked at and the questions "who is that girl? and why is she here?" were splashed plainly across their faces. Fuck, these were adults! And I wasn't even dressed that ridiculous! Indeed, I was quite disappointed at the lack of maturity on behalf of the other guests. And suffice it to say, I won't be attending another similar event. Free booze or not. I can drink at home with my puppy and my boyfriend and dance to OMB records in my living room wearing my Rodarte shoes, and not be judged.
I am praying that New York Fashion Week isn't like that. Praying. Lighting Jesus candles in hopes of not dealing with that kind of bullshit.
Because my experience at the event was so negative, I don't believe I'm in any sort of position to offer an unbiased review of the clothes.* Here are the photos I took. You can make up your own mind.
*I will, however, mention that I thought the model's makeup was a complete miss. Not pretty, not complementary to the clothes, and garish in comparison to the lighting of the venue. So there's that.