It’s inevitable that every September and February, most of my non-fashion industry friends will gleefuly exclaim how utterly fabulous my job is. “Do you get to go to fashion shows?” they ask. “Do you get photographed a lot?” they want to know. “Your job is SO cool!” they announce. And yeah, my job is pretty damn cool when you think about it.
But fashion week? No way. It’s hands down my least favorite week of the year. Between having to remember to eat (I once went two whole days before realizing I’d consumed nary a piece of gum) to not even having time to sneak a shower in (freshman year anyone?) the months of September and February are undeniably the hardest to get through in the life of an editor.
I once went two whole days before realizing I’d consumed nary a piece of gum.
Luckily I’ve got this down pat. I now make sure to get my essentials ready the week before (that means my bag has been packed and ready to go since last Wednesday, but have I done my laundry in a month? The answer is no.).
This year, not only am I doing the hussle of backstage interviews with models, makeup artists, hair stylists, nail artists, designers, and who ever else wants to give me one, I’m also sitting at some of my favorite designers shows and appearing as a guest at the much anticipated Fashion Media Awards (I’m just praying that Gaga and I don’t show up in the same thing — blasphemous!).
So, here you go. Here’s my life for the next seven days all packed neatly into Mulberry’s Willow tote. Which, by the way, I’d really love in nude as well — ahem — mom.