The former fashion columnist of the Village Voice may have to tighten her purse-strings a bit, as she has candidly reported in Vogue, but at the tents, Lynn Yaeger remained:
Hi! Good thing I got those boots fixed, cause they’re running all over this fair city for Fashion Week. (Thank you, sun, for shining!)
Here are the shows and events I’ve covered over the last few days (those that don’t link aren’t up on Dossier yet, I’ll link them up as they come.)
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.
Tonight’s forecast calls for heavy snow to begin falling around midnight. The air was heavy and cold as I wandered by the tents earlier this evening, where the crew was battening the hatches for Bryant Park’s final New York Fashion Week.
Beginning next season, the shows will move to Lincoln Center. I’m a bit sentimental about the tents’ last stand in this locale, which has been the nexus of my little universe over the past few years, bordered by the grit of the Garment District on one side and the grandeur of the Public Library and Condé Nast on the other (and conveniently located near my most recent homebase in the CUNY newsroom.)
In a couple of days, Fashion Week will hit the fan, and I’ll be running around to cover it for Dossier. But for tonight I’m battening the hatches at home, for one last fashion week at Bryant Park.