This morning I tweeted (I know, I know) that one of my challenges of Fashion Week is to dress like an editor on a blogger’s budget. Today the result was a massive pile of pants, dresses, skirts and sweaters on my bed, and in the end, a delayed departure wearing the exact outfit I initially put on straight out of the shower: one of my sister’s friends old prom dresses from the ’90’s (black bias cut shiny fake satin slipdress by Betsey Johnson) with black Hogan motorcycle boots, a sample jacket from Cynthia Rose (taupe heathered cashmere with sheared mink pockets) and my favorite scarf. (Links and images to come–you’ll soon know why.)
When I left the apartment, 40 minutes later than planned, I foolishly assumed my wrestling with resources for the day was done. I swung by the tents and went to the CUNY newsroom, ready to load some photos from my portable hard drive to start posting from yesterday’s shows. When I swiped my little card the security guard said, “it’s closed.”
“Lincoln’s birthday, nobody’s up there.”
So that’s how I found myself on a loaner laptop at the Bryant Park Library (directly across the hall from the Bill Blass Reading Room, no less!) with 16 minutes remaining on a version of Internet Explorer that does not allow for opening multiple tabs, tweeting, facebooking and now, blogging for anyone nearby with a moment and firewire connection to spare to open their hearts, and their laptops, to this one-man-band.
But at least I like my outfit.