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The view at the Press is that fashion is inconsequential. “If that week known as Fashion Week disappeared from the calendar,” said one editor, “nobody would notice.” One only needs to take a look at the editors and staff of this publication to understand why they would feel this way.
But they’re wrong. Just like drugs, rock’n’roll, anal sex and every other evil thing on the planet, Fashion Week can be lots of fun: maybe because it involves lots of drugs, rock’n’roll, anal sex and other evil things. Yet, everyone—from the doe-eyed would-be fashionista just arrived from the corn-fed Midwest to the jaded anorexic label-whore from Midtown—needs to be aware of certain basic facts, protocols and procedures to maximize the Fashion Week experience:
1) The models won’t sleep with you. Don’t waste your time trying to pick them up. They will only hang out for a few minutes after the shows, form into tight groups at the after-parties and only speak to industry people for more than eight seconds.
2) But those innocent boys and girls from the Midwest might go to bed with you. So impress them with an invite or two to a high-profile show.
3) Sophia Lamar, actor and woman-about-town, says: “Do not go where you are not invited. People will know that you don’t fit in.”
4) Drink lots of water and take lots of vitamins. You don’t want the week after to be Hangover Week.
5) Designer Kai Kuhne (formerly of collective AsFour) recommends: “Be bold and beautiful. You’ll get into all the shows and parties that way.”
6) Fashion Show producer Thomas Onorato warns: “Be nice to all PR, check-in and door people; if you get on their bad side, you’ll never get in anywhere again.”
7) Place your coke orders early. It’s a busy week for the dealers.
8) Arrive early at the shows: that way you can steal lots of goodie bags and party invites placed under the seats.
9) PR people lie: even if you RSVP early and they confirm, there is a good chance you won’t get a seat and will have to stand, or you’ll be robbed of your +1.
10) Losing your +1 means your boy-toy from Ohio won’t sleep with you.
In the end, Fashion Week is one big circle jerk of deception, and the magazine-buying, VH1-viewing public is the one that eats the cracker. But, then again, it’s so wonderful to be invited to any masturbatory activity that includes so many beautiful people, hell, we’ll even give a lick or two to the saltine.