So That’s How You Got In…Right?

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So That’s How You Got In…Right?

A couple weeks ago I was waiting to check in to the Hellessy show when I noticed this girl in some over-the- top outfit, complete with a massive ‘look at me’ hat and some crazy pair of shoes. She was checking in too, and based on her clothing I’d assumed that she’d be a front-rower. Me, I’m lucky to get a seat at these shows and usually find myself in the standing row. But when I turned around, I saw her standing right behind me. I was shocked. Why was she wearing this totally flamboyant outfit if she was just a regular, not important enough to score a seat person like me? Her clothing had me convinced that she was some famous blogger.

But then I took a good look around at all the other ladies and gents in the standing section and noticed that I was the only asshole wearing simple jeans and a tank, and it dawned on me: were these flashy outfits used as a way to get in? Do you not have to be a writer, or a blogger, or even an assistant buyer at a small boutique? Is wearing something over-the- top and borderline ridiculous the tactful way of getting into a fashion show you weren’t invited to? Why hadn’t I realized this before?

While my theory may not be law, it definitely has to prove true at least sometimes, right? Like, are the PR teams in charge of admitting guests into shows making the same assumptions as me about these interestingly dressed individuals? That in an outfit like that you must have a five-figure Instagram following and that sure, you weren’t on the list, but you should have been because look how creative you are, so here’s a ticket, and if any seats come open you’ll be the first to be seated?

Oh my, they must be.

I might be the last person that wants to be noticed, but maybe I should put this theory to the test. Maybe when next fashion week rolls around I’ll put together some unusual ensemble of clothing and head to Sies Marjan. Hell, it’ll probably be years before I even score a standing row ticket to that, so it might not be the worst idea.

Then again, I’ll probably chicken out. I used to have way more chutzpah, but now? I don’t know that I could ever actually go through with it. I’d really just rather wear my jeans and t-shirt and look as unimportant as I actually am.

So maybe I’ll never actually know whether I’m right in my assumption or not, but something tells me that I’m not so far off. Because when a girl’s dressed like that, and she’s in the standing row, something’s gotta be up.

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I’d really just rather wear my jeans and t-shirt and look as unimportant as I actually am.

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