NYFW come and you ain’t go? Well, that’s on you love. I ain’t got tickets, but I do know the pain you going through.
First, it starts with the phase I like to call: REALITY. You look at that calendar and realize despite the promises you made last year, you did not in fact save or request tickets for Fashion week.
Second, you BARTER. You look through your contact list at every friend, family member, or Fashion blogger you met at an odd party you weren’t invited to but crashe dro network. No ones came through.
Third, You hunt. So now that you can’t finagle in by favors, you’re going to want to look for any and all ways to push through that Versace designed ceiling into the promised land. You get to searching for all off-brand Fashion week events. The ticket prices beat you back down to reality. You’re poor. You’re sad. You’re pathetic.
Fourth, you break down in agony. How could you have forgotten? This is your fault and you know it. You don’t deserve Fashion Week. You are a churl, a peasant and this event is for the Fashion Gods.
Your friends eye you like you’re trippin’. They’re concerned not for you but for their clout hitting numbers as low as Trump approval rating following four natural disasters in a row.
Finally, you ease on down. You sit and open your IPhone and settle down on some good ol’social media: where you can watch the highlights in peace. You promise yourself you will go next year.