Weak For Fashion Week, Plus Other Updates
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In the same manner that each February 2nd Punxsutawney Phil decides how many days we have left of winter, Saks’ biannual NYFW kickoff party lets devotees of the sartorially-inclined set know that Fashion Week’s officially upon us. The who’s who of the high fashion world and New York’s It-crowd congregated on the velvet-roped 700 block of 5th Avenue Wednesday evening, making a glitzy beeline, redolent of niche perfumes. Swathed in designer logos, flashy sequins, show-stopping accents, and trompe l’oeil fashion pieces, every guest dressed for the occasion: to the absolute nines. And, as a “nose” (a person sensitive to aromas, who might also have a natural penchant for composing perfumes), I couldn’t help but take stock of how all in attendance scented themselves accordingly, too.
The inside of Aman, where the fête was co-hosted by Saks CEO Marc Metrick and the understated Nickelodeon star Emma Roberts, smelled like it was the War of Rose Notes.
Expensive and floral-besieged, the artillery of fragrances filling the corridors of the modern outpost fit for fashion’s most important soirée was so strong, I thought, that it had to have wafted two side streets over to the posh Central Park South strip as attendees came and left. It formed an aroma cloud over the entrance of the Plaza, fusing with its signature scent of Chanel №5 and assorted Guerlains. Thus birthing the official 2k23 parfum de la nuit to aptly commemorate us Upper East Siders, leaving no notes unturned. (Chiefly, not the rose-laden.)
About an hour and a half into the festivities, I was already out the door, heading downtown for a different RSVP observing a less star-studded, though equally special, NYFW party hosted by TWELV Magazine.
The next day, as tradition holds, was a giant, lurex-brocaded whirlwind.
Between my work shift, hitting the gym, and stopping in at the National Arts Club to hear Jann Wenner, the founder of Rolling Stone (my first internship publication), speak, I only made it to the surreally opulent Gotham Hall venue, where the inaugural shows were held, by the skin of my teeth. I was lucky enough to arrive in time to witness the legendary Coco Rocha’s iconic walk for Christian Siriano’s SS23 collection.
It was a decadent ode to my muse Audrey Hepburn, which realized what the late actress and humanitarian might’ve worn to one of her many gardens. But for an after-hour affair, that is!
Took a call from startup expert Brandon Maier in Los Angeles promptly upon exiting the show. Given that Brandon and I are two mere degrees of separation, professionally speaking, his weighing in on my company’s evolving pitch deck I’d spent the week perfecting was the final nod of approval I needed to move forward with it, without hemming and hawing.
The morning after was spent prepping for a big investor meeting that ended up lasting longer than expected, making me once again late for the Rodarte show in Brooklyn at 4 PM.
It was a pleasure to hear said investor aver my presentation was “great.”
Rodarte at the Williamsburg Savings Bank, next in the pecking order of my same-day NYFW itinerary, was a vestiary fantasy come to life. This was a show where the glamour of disco met the subdued elegance of ballet.
Rodarte, helmed by the talented Mulleavy sisters, is one of my favourite contemporary brands to admire and also wear. Beyond grateful got to have previewed thire collection in person in my home city, despite tardiness.
Spring Studios runways and Spring Place mixers more-or-less dominated the rest of my Fashion Week calendar. During, I got to support Rickey Thompson on the catwalk. And simultaneously befriend everyone’s favourite America’s Next Top Model photographer — Nigel Barker.
Luck be a lady, as the old adage goes!
Amid all the fashion fun, I also had the pleasure of connecting with fellow Founder CEO Joe Davolio (a young Cornell and Harvard grad overseeing multiple startups, one alongside his former dean who’d poached him).
Joe said to me matter-of-factly that he believes in me and Darling Anaïs.
It was sheer music to my ears and too easily juuust the morale boost a girl could ask for to end SS23 in style and teeming with inspiration.
Bisou bisou for now!
