You can prepare for fashion week all you want, plan your outfits, book your meetings, and even color code your schedule, but I can guarantee that the chaos will still somehow sweep you under.
I kicked off PFW on its first day with a party at Pamela, a red-lit club in a stone cave with stripper poles adorning the dance floor and disco ball chandeliers. Obviously an amazing time. I arrived at Musee Des Arts Decoratifs early in the morning and walked through an incredible garden to reach the entrance despite the rain.
The show was beautiful and like nothing I have ever experienced β something about Issey Miyake reminds me of joy and happiness. The first few looks were wrapped in pleated cloth, cut open by hand, and put on the models in front of us. Following Issey, I headed to Amiri, by subway of course. No one tells you this but the city during fashion week is so busy that it is nearly impossible to get an Uber unless you are blessed with a miracle. Upon Arriving at Amiri I was greeted by not only an usher but a waiter with a tray of Aperol Spritz and was led to my seat while songs that could only be described as the soundtrack of summer played.
It was overcast but I still felt like I was in the south of France on vacation. The runway surrounded a garden bar with barstools and cafe tables as seats for important guests.
Afternoon hit and I had to practically run to Yohji Yamamoto. I was excited about this show not only because I am a huge fan but because they sent me a huge envelope with a tailored burlap bag that had the show details printed onto it with a ceramic yohji tile inside. I had high expectations for this show based on the invite alone. As I arrived, each PR person had difficulty finding my name as the entrance was being swarmed with guests invited or not, yet they still had it under control.
