Fashion's Night Out on Friday evening was a lot of fun. A girlfriend that I absolutely adore, and wish that I had the luck of knowing forever, instead of just becoming friends with her about a year and half ago, invited me to Nieman's big party. Louboutin was having a trunk show, and I have the good fortune of having Cinderella's shoe size for such events. While we both decided that the Mini-Yeti boots would be amazing, if I 1. believed in fur, 2. lived in New York, and 3. had $2,000 to drop on a pair of fabulous shoes right now. Alas, without a job, and a paycheck, I made no purchases. My girlfriend was only mildly obscene, nothing like last time, when she bought two pairs of salon shoes, two handbags and spent more than I spent on both my first, and second car purchases combined—they were used, I was in college.
Nieman's hosted what they called a "fashion-show," though, the title was a big stretch for the actual event. They had stylists come in and pick things off the racks, with tags, and dress their models. Poorly fitting, puckering garments with tags are not meant for the runway. Everyone and their handbag came to the second floor to watch, and no seats were left. Two gals were kind enough to offer my friend and I seats, as we were standing in 5" stilettos (mine were my McQueen brass square-toe patent pumps from the Spring 2008 season). One of the lovely ladies said, as they offered their seats, "At least YOU dressed for the event," put off by everyone else's lack of fashion. Well, that compliment made me feel quite spectacular. I wore my snake-print dress, which I shared a picture of on Friday. I mean, this is Nieman Marcus, if you cant' wear the crazy fashion you have in your closet to there, then where can you wear it?
Later that evening we went to a Sushi restaurant nearby. Upon walking in, I felt very overdressed, even though I was in a mini-dress. Jeans and sweatshirts in great abundance, this trendy fishy hot-spot was packed to the brim. Even thought he volume was loud I still heard the loud wack of a girl hit her boyfriend's shoulder quite hard, at her excitement about what I was wearing, trying to get him to turn around an look. I am not used to standing out, and I am not sure if her thump of attention was either surprise or delight, or disbelief at the "what was she wearing," but either way, I felt like I had the confidence from my garb to think and have the stance of, "well, what-of it? I am wearing Alexander Fucking McQueen (shoes at least) and you can suck-it. Stare all you want, I don't need your approval, because I am fabulous."
That is just the thing about wearing these clothes, shoes, and the like, in public. While not doing it to gain attention, you do start to take on the personality of the design you are wearing. You have more confidence because you know people are, in-fact, looking at you, and you know that you own-it. The greatest part about it is that you don't have to say, or do anything. You do not need to be arrogant, snotty, or overly confident. The lines, balance, movement, and artistic splendor of the designer's vision manifests in you, and a new entity emerges.
Taking a break from fashion and sewing, my sister and I drove up to my Mom's this weekend to celebrate her birthday in style—meaning, with margaritas in hand. She lives in a small town of about 6,000, and she and her co-worker are currently fostering a litter of five snuggly five-week-old kittens that got stuck in a wall at work. While kittens are adorable and cute, they are also prickly, pokey, and a bit messy. Jeans and t-shirts have returned for the leg climbing crew, and I haven't made one stitch in a single garment all weekend. Back to home tonight, and back to work on Project Hallway tomorrow. I have lots to do, and less time than I realize, but after the confidence boost of Fashion's Night Out, I have more excitement and energy for the problem solving of the project, the things I hope to create, and curiosity over the looks I will receive in the future.
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