So, I've been through the works (manicure, hairdresser) and dressed in black from top to toe (with a touch of pink) I am off to my first fashion show in my stilettos. Tough life!!!
Nope, that is not me but an imposter!
I made sure I'd arrive early to draw in all the fashion vibes and watch some eccentric characters hanging around the entrance of the Musée Rodin. What a romantic place to hold a fashion show? But wait, why am I the only one snaping pictures of the gardens and its lovely layout?
Anyway, back to my exotic non-conformists. Wow! What a show! And I am not talking about the fashion show but all the action happening outside the catwalk.
One rare bird after another. The photographers are running after the personalities who in return are pretending to be sought after when in reality these free-spirited creatures are hunting after the photographers just as badly as the paparazzi after them. It is like watching a dog trying to catch his tail running in circles.
Admittedly, some individuals try much too hard to stick out but others just have a plain genuis streak in their blood and it comes out naturally. Observing all these zany personas is a show in itself.
Now, I don't usually "hang out" but this time I stood there (in my 14cm heels) taking it all in with a big grin on my face. And what a show it was!
Next I had to fight my way past the photographers to get anywhere close to the entrance. Oh, did I forget to tell you that if you are not a celebrity, the crowds do not miraculously open up before you to let you through. It is survival of the fittest.
Finally I am standing at the entrance and my invitation is stuck at the bottom of my incy-wincy handbag. While I am now in the middle of the photographers' half-cicle (and still not famous) I am grinning at a charming security man at the entrance apologizing for being a bit nervous around all these VIP but "I promise you I do have an invitation!" More smile, smile.
Yupee, I'm in! I now get to stride down the grey carpet and slalom past all the fashion news anchors who are preparing their spiel. Up the stairs, down another stairs, through a grand door onto the back garden...but Oh No.... more paparazzi ... and they are all facing... ME.... and I'm still not famous...so no flashes go off. I need to walk straight down the rest of the grey carpet and right up to the photographers ... so I decide to pretend they are all waiting for ME and sweep down the garden as gracefully as possible. I came here to have fun so that's what I'm gonna get!!!
I'm in the tent (especially mounted in the gardens for the fashion show), I find my place and let myself be transported by the theatrical extravaganza. The extraordinary craftsmanship of these ensembles suit the grandeur of their setting. I am no fashion expert but it was a pleasure to follow the ultra-feminine collection featuring cinched waists, voluminous pleated skirts and soft colours of smoldering reds, dusted ashes, pretty plums and warm creams beautifully accented by luminous black sprinkles throughout the collection.
Tonight I will be dreaming of wearing a pink prêt-à-porter gown down the grey carpet .. and the cameras WILL be flashing!!!
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