image via Style.com
Ahh, Fashion Week. The 8 days out of the year when the collective BMI of the city drops, the average heel height temporarily rises, and it’s considered seasonally and socially appropriate to wear couture Oscar de la Renta before noon. Outdoors. When it’s no longer about what you’re wearing but who you’re wearing; when blatantly taking photographs of strangers without their knowledge is not only considered uncreepy, but is, in fact, encouraged. Yes. Yes, how I love fashion week.
Last week, I went to the Kimberly Ovitz show where The Manrepeller was strategically positioned in the front row. See also: highlight of my life. Kim Ovitz not only brought back the arm cuff, but also the notion of barefoot chic with shoeless models strutting down a clay runway. Is NYC ready for this sans-shoes phenom? I’m not sure. But footwear aside, the collection was quite wearable, from flowy fabrics to body con dresses in muted earth tones. A very mature and cohesive collection, indeed. Images below for your perusal, and you’d better believe that I will be bringing back the arm cuff. Like, tomorrow.
Spotted: Leandra, right in the middle.
And, in true purple form, I never miss an opportunity to street stalk the masses with my camera. Ever the creeper. So Saturday morning (and by morning, let’s be real, I mean noon…) I went with a fellow fashionista to the tents to document the scene. A rather impromptu trip, let’s just say I may or may not have been wearing high top sneakers, and she may or may not have been wearing flip flops on the hallowed and sacred grounds of fashion. This is something we vowed never to speak of again. Obviously with the exception of right now. Needless to say, I am not included in any of these pictures…
Oh, HEYY!!! Party shoes!
This season’s baroque Pradas were everywhere. Everywhere!!
Meanwhile, I was wearing my Fradas. Faux-Pradas.
Honestly, you’d think Starbucks sponsored the week…
Wait, did they?