Fashion Week: Roll Your Eyes At Me All You Want

I have a love-hate relationship with Fashion Week. Its easy to get caught up with everyone else who claims to hate it, usually just because they like to make snarky comments about anorexic models, socialites, gay men, and Anna Wintour. It's almost as though its the "cool" thing to do these days, so people can act as though the whole thing is soooo beneath them. I've been reading so much of this recently that I feel the need to come to its defense. Most of these people, its worth noting, have never actually attended any of the events and probably don’t have the first clue about fashion. There’s a great quote from The Devil Wears Prada that perfectly responds to all those people who act so condescendingly towards the fashion industry:

“Oh, okay, I see, you think this has nothing to do with you. You go to your closet and you select out, oh I don’t know, that lumpy blue sweater for instance, because you’re trying to tell the world that you take yourself too seriously to care about what you put on your back. But what you don’t know is that that sweater is not just blue, it’s not turquoise, it’s not lapis, it’s actually cerulean. You’re also blithely unaware of the fact that in 2002, Oscar De La Renta did a collection of cerulean gowns. And I think it was Yves St. Laurent, wasn’t it, who shows cerulean military jackets? And then cerulean quickly showed up in the collections of 8 different designers. Then it filtered down through the department stores and then trickled on down into some tragic casual corner where you, no doubt, fished it out of some clearance bin. However, that blue represents millions of dollars and countless jobs and so it’s sort of comical how you think that you’ve made a choice that exempts you from the fashion industry when, in fact, you’re wearing the sweater that was selected for you by the people in this room.”

It’s funny, how in a movie that’s supposed to be a sardonic characterization of the fashion world, they actually got it spot on—-how, no matter what you wear, how much you oppose the trends, no matter where you shop, if you get your clothes from the fucking Salvation Army, at one point, anything you put on was created based on something that was sent down the runway. Granted, its not a perfect industry, and there’s a lot of fucked up things that happen within it, but keep that in mind.

That being said, there are also the people who hate fashion week because they HAVE been to the events, and they’re over it. Because every year it’s the same, and all the bullshit is the same. I know plenty of people like that, and it’s completely understandable. And for those who moan and wail about the city being taken over by models and fashionistas, I always wonder, am I missing something? Personally, I don’t notice anything different about New York, except for the fact that I know to steer clear of the Waverly Inn. And then again, there are the people who still go to all the events every year and still enjoy it just as much.

I’m somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. With the onslaught of Fashion Week every year, twice a year, I get a funny feeling in my stomach that’s a mixture of excitement and dread. Excitement because the parties can be fun, there’s always free booze, and most of all, I love to see the collections. Seeing the newest creations of designers I love gets me all giddy. What can I say? Fashion is my weakness. It’s my thing. Some people get excited for new technology, or when their favorite bands come out with new albums, or for a new film by their favorite director. It’s safe to say that I enjoy all of those, but clothes are my #1.

And then there’s the dread. Or I guess a better word would be anxiety. The ordeal of going through the party circuit can be more tedious than enjoyable in a lot of cases. It could just be me—I used to do the club scene a lot, but I got it out of my system a few years ago. When you start at 16, its bound to happen. To be honest, I don’t really understand why people do it in the first place. I’ve only ever enjoyed it—-hell, only ever partaken in it when I don’t wait in line and get VIP access. I know it sounds snobby, but why would I want to wait in line forever only to be tossed around by tons of sweaty bodies and spend twenty minutes elbowing my way to the bar only to spend another twenty minutes trying to get the bartender’s attention when I can sit comfortably or move around freely and either have drinks in front of me or served? It just seems logical, right?

I can remember writing a blog entry in London after going to Paper, and being so disillusioned with the whole thing. I was bored with the pretension, and the fakeness, and everyone just showing off how much money they have and how fabulous their lives are. The parties are all about who looks the best, who’s wearing the best clothes, who has the best table, who’s with the right people. It must be exhausting, trying so hard.

So, in order to actually enjoy Fashion Week, I take it in small doses. Making an appearance at the parties that would actually be more like fun than work. Bungalow 8 is usually a good choice because it’s small, selective, and I know the people there will treat me nicely. It was great for Zac Posen’s party in 06, and in 05 for…God, I can’t even remember whose party it was, J Mendel I think? But it was fun. I decided to stick with the ZP party again this year, also because my good friend Natasha works for Zac. This year it was at the grand opening of Mansion, a significant change from B8, most notably because Mansion is fucking HUGE. Not to mention there were several added elements of spectacle, like a contortionist, an opera singer, a gospel choir, and trapeze dancers. It was like a three ring circus in there, which was actually kind of nice because it added entertainment. The DJ wasn’t half bad either—he totally redeemed himself from playing Rihanna remixes by throwing on Justice. Moral of the story: I had a really good time.

And of course the social aspect is fun (in small doses). It’s always great to meet new people, and see familiar faces. I briefly sat with Tinsley Mortimer and Olivia Palermo, and apparently the one and only Julia Allison was there for a few minutes as well. In situations like that, I get a brief and all-too-familiar glimpse of what my life could have been like if I hadn’t run screaming in the opposite direction at every turn. Don’t get me wrong, I love where and who I came from and I know how lucky I am to have the upbringing I had, but following the same path as the kids I grew up with was not something I could bring myself to do. And if it means I would have to attend every single event during Fashion Week, then I definitely made the right choice. But really, it’s not all bad. When you scale it back to what its REALLY all about—the clothes, and celebrating all the hard work that’s gone into creating them—a little bit of excess is worth it.

And for everyone who still rolls their eyes in disgust, relax, it's over. That is, until September.

(Photos are on Flickr.)

The Writer's Strike Is Ruining My Life, Part III: The Final Edition

As I mentioned on Tumblr, yesterday I went back to work. I was actually really excited to get back, only to find that one of my favorite people there had been fired because of "cutbacks", which are, as you can probably guess, the result of the strike. Some other changes have been made as well, which overall contributed to the feeling I got that this was not the same office it had been when I left. I love my job, I always have. But things have been going downhill lately, and I'm starting to wonder how much longer I want to stay.

Despite how much I do love my job, I bitch a lot about the business. It's fickle and the politics are insane. You can work your ass off, but if the wrong person doesn't like you, you're out. You sell your soul, only to end up getting chewed up and spit out. It can be awful.

I said all of that and much more in an angry tirade to a friend of mine after someone else who I really liked at work got fired a few months ago. After listening to me ranting, my friend asked me, "So why don't you do something else?"

I thought about it for a second. And then I told her, "I don't think I could do anything else."

It's true--plenty of other people I know have easy, less-stressful jobs that they enjoy in other fields. But I could never do that. I couldn't even picture myself having a normal, boring, every-day job. To be honest, it sounds horrific. I admire the people who can do it, but...I can't. No matter how miserable I may be sometimes, it's nothing compared to how miserable I'd be doing something else. And besides, for every bad day, there are so many more good ones.

As for the strike, this officially marks the end of any sympathy I had for the writers. I'm done supporting them. Like I said a long time ago, the strike won't be worth it. And it hasn't been. It's done so much more harm than good, and at this point, more people will remember it in a negative way than a positive one. And in the mean time, nothing can be done to make up for the damage that's been done.

The Worst News Ever

Well, that was unexpected.

The Patriots are not supposed to lose. After an 18-0 season, going into the Superbowl playing the Giants should have been a breeze. A cakewalk. The Red Sox win the World Series another year, the Celtics have made a comeback to become one of the best teams in the league, and the Bruins…well, God love them, they try. But the Pats were a shoe-in. No sweat. The Giants SUCK. They SUCK! This WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME TOM? CAN YOU MAKE ONE GOOD THROW? OR WOULD YOU JUST RATHER STAND THERE UNTIL THEY TACKLE YOU? APPARENTLY YOU WOULD. AND BILL, WHY DID YOU HAVE TO WEAR A FUCKING RED SWEATSHIRT? WHY?!

Ahem.

There were parts of the game that felt familiar to me, but in the wrong context. As a Boston sports fan, I’ve suffered endless disappointment -- heart-wrenching, cringe-worthy, devastating disappointment at the hands of the Red Sox. The feeling of getting your hopes up, making it so far, only to have it ripped from your hands and shoved down your throat. But the Patriots are not supposed to cause this kind of disappointment. The Red Sox are the abusive boyfriend that we could never break up with, the unemployed alcoholic who kept beating the shit out of us but we could never say no to and kept coming back to. The Patriots were the nice, handsome guy who never failed to let us nurse our wounds or cry on his shoulder; who was successful and had a good job and came from a nice family. After another harsh blow by the Sox every October, we could readily turn to the reliable Pats to bring us to a happy victory in the post season. But now the tables have turned. The Red Sox have cleaned up their act and gotten their shit together. And the Patriots are the ones who got our hopes up and brought us all the way to the end, only to blindside us with a backhand blow that we never saw coming.

In the last few nailbiting minutes, I also felt the same feeling I got every time my team in high school, whether it be field hockey, basketball, or lacrosse, suddenly found ourselves down but with the possibility of a comeback with little time left. I can still vividly picture the faces and reactions of all my coaches when we would come running to the sidelines during a timeout, whether down a goal with one minute left or down five points with five minutes left. My lacrosse coach always remained calm, icily dishing out a play command, with no need to raise her voice because we were all perfectly aware of the suicides and five miler we’d be running after the game if we lost. My basketball coach would yell, emphasizing each individual word as if it would give us the extra oomph we needed to get ahead. My field hockey coach never said a word. We would all run over, and I would be the one rattling off instructions to everyone while she stood there silently, and when I finished, I’d look to her for a nod before we got back on the field. (Varsity captain, thank you very much.) My lacrosse coach at NYU was a screamer. What every situation had in common was the same heart-pounding anxiety, the same anxiety I felt while watching the final minutes of the game tonight. The only difference was that this time I couldn’t run out onto the field, completely fired up and ready to do whatever it took to win. I had to sit there, literally on the edge of my seat, Lauren’s fingernails digging into my arm, chewing my fingernails off as the final seconds ticked down. And then had to stop myself from throwing plates on the ground, smashing my mom’s crystal bowl, and stabbing a fork in my eye.

On a different, but lighter note, my mother is the only person I know who would serve salsa con queso in a Tiffany’s crystal bowl, and have quiche at a superbowl party.

My dad is now fuming in his study, probably dreading work tomorrow since he does most of his business with New York, and I am fuming on the couch, dreading going back to New York tomorrow.

At least I didn’t have to watch the game with any Giants fans.

THE BEST NEWS EVER!

I CAN WALK AGAIN!!!!!!!!

NO MORE CRUTCHES!!!!!!!!

According to my surgeon, who I saw this morning.

Dear Life,

Welcome back!

Love,
Case

Welcome Aboard Oceanic Flight 815

Finally…the day we’ve all been waiting for…LOST premiere day!!! For those of us who have been following the show, today has been a day we’ve been anxiously awaiting for months, after being left with our jaws hanging and minds whirling with the finale of last season, not to mention being left with questions upon questions that need to be answered. And, if you know the cruel ways of the show’s producers, most likely tonight’s premiere will only answer but a few of them, and probably raise a few more, leaving us all in suspense for yet another week. And God help me if they run out of scripts before the strike ends, I will HURT someone. LOST is pretty much all I have left at this point.

Obviously, the biggest question deals with the “flash forwards” that were revealed at the end of the finale. So now we know that yes, they made it off the island, but everything is not well. And—gasp!—Kate and Jack are not together, and even worse, she’s with someone else. Sawyer? Maybe. So whose funeral did Jack go to that Kate was so adverse to attending? In regards to the whole Jake/Kate thing, personally I think they better end up together. I was really starting to hate Jack towards the end of the season because he was acting like a grade-A douchebag (and that slut Juliet needs to back off), but I still really loved him at the end. And as much as Sawyer is smokin’ hot, it wouldn’t be right if Kate and Jack don’t end up together? Right? RIGHT?!

According to the show’s producers, they’re going to be doing more with the flash forwards this season, and that part of the season will take place off the island. Which begs the question of how they’re going to sustain it for another two seasons after this one, like they’ve planned. Apparently, they know how the story is going to end, but how can they make it last for so much longer if they get “rescued” this season? Maybe some of them will go back to the island? Or maybe some will never leave?

Other questions: If Penny wasn’t the one who sent Naomi, how is she on the monitor in the underwater station? And what the fuck is Naomi’s deal anyway? There was some hinting that she’s going to be doing more harm than good.

What’s the deal with Jakob? Personally, I think that whole thing is making the show a little too sci-fi for my liking. And what caused Locke to turn on everyone? And are we EVER going to find out what the weird black cloud monsters are?

Is Sun really going to die because she’s pregnant? What is the deal with Ben’s accomplice (Richard?) who lured him away when Ben was a child? I mean, how has that guy not aged?

Remember the couple obsessed with diamonds who ended up getting buried alive? Are they ever going to be making a comeback? Will Rousseau and her daughter stay reunited? Where have Michael and Walt been all this time? What's the deal with that weird magic room where Ben had Locke's father?

There are more, but this is making me sound kind of crazy. Let’s just say I’m excited (understatement). As anyone who watches the show knows, its like crack. I started watching it with the DVDs from Seasons 1 and 2, which was a horrible idea. I don’t think I slept for a week. You think to yourself, “Hey, I’ve got forty minutes to spare, maybe I’ll watch an episode of LOST.” Hours later, its five A.M., you’re curled in the fetal position, bloodshot eyes, weakly lifting the remote with a whisper, “Just…one…more…”

It’s bad. Dangerous, really. But if you’ve never watched the show, you gotta do it. Bite the bullet, accept the fact that you will become a hermit and not work or do anything productive for a week or two. When your friends call and ask where you are, just tell them you’re catching up on LOST.

Trust me. They’ll understand.

And while we’re on the subject, I think a moment of silence is in order for the ridiculous and abominable devastating killing-off of Charlie. RIP Charlie.

Something Lame, And The Most Un-Lame Thing Ever

I've been slacking on the posts this week, and believe it or not, its because I've been actually kind of busy. Yeah, I know, wicked lame excuse for someone who is confined to her apartment (hence the subject). But I've been trying to get a lot of work done, and trying to readjust and work out my schedule. Tomorrow I'm going home for the weekend because I have to have yet another meeting with my surgeon. Keep your fingers crossed that he tells me I can start putting weight on my ankle. Oh, and there's the Superbowl. No big deal.

To make up for my lameness (in theory as well as literally/physically), I'd like to take this opportunity to introduce you all, if you haven't been introduced already, to the wonderfulness that is Jake and Amir.

If you like The Office, or actually, if you have any sense of humor whatsoever, you will enjoy their videos. They work for Connected Ventures, which is the media company behind goldmines such as CollegeHumor and Busted Tees. Basically, these guys are hilarious. To use one of their own terms, they are "so ace". (Watch them. You'll get it.) I recently became a fan and am now addicted, and look forward to their new videos as much as I would look forward to a new episode of any of my favorite TV shows (most of which right now, do not exist, thank you WGA strike).

As hard as it is for me to pick my favorite videos, two four of them are below. But if you're smart, you'll bookmark their website. Seriously. Just watch them. All of them. Just do it.






Beer from Amir on Vimeo.


Costume from Amir on Vimeo.

Tomorrow: LOST predictions, questions, etc!

Getting Back Into The Scha-Wing Of Things

So, obviously, I'm back in New York. And not quite sure how I feel about the situation. Hmm.

Since I've been back in the apartment, my four roommates and I have:

-cooked an exorbitant amount of food.
-managed to make the place a mess two days after the cleaning people were here.
-watched endless amounts of Arrested Development episodes.
-watched Clerks. And Clerks II. Multiple times.
-quoted Arrested Development episodes. All day, every day.
-accomplished absolutely nothing.

Productivity, onward!