So I can't resist... these past few weeks have just been too hysterical to not share.
Fashion week is always nuts. The Spring Collection show (which goes up in September) happened when I had been living in New York for less than a month and started with a knife fight at a diner at 3:30am. This one wasn't quite so bad. I got to see Donna Karan's DKNY collection (ew, ew, ick, ick! Schlumpy cardigans are back again!) and another designer named Luella Bartley. If you look up Luella's pictures, you'll see her fall 2006 collection was done in this green carpeted room thing, not a runway. The show was in a crazy Old Boy's club on the Upper East Side - all dark wood panelling and big leather chairs, very swanky, very old-men-in-smoking-jackets-drinking-brandy. And there were loads of big scary portraits of Republican presidents lining the walls. The media mob had been placed at one end of the room (and there are TONS of photographers and video people all crammed onto a tiny little platform - terribly amusing, watching them jockey for position) right up against a big portrait of George HW Bush. One of the photographers kept leaning against the picture and the lighting designer was FREAKING OUT. He was like "That picture is worth more than my entire company!! Stop touching it!!" Very exciting.
And back at the theater, we've been loading in an operatic version of Hercules with this huge, gargantuan concrete set and corkboard floor that's supposed to look like sand. The last time I unloaded a shipping container truck, I ended up in the hospital with a fleck of Styrofoam lodged firmly in my eyeball. This time, when we threw open the container doors, what was one of the first things off the truck? Yup, Styrofoam. I spent the day slightly paranoid. And the crew that came from France with the show had never put the set together before, so for the last forty-eight hours we've been trying to puzzle together this ginormous set. Many many many many pieces. Many many hours of French head scratching.
Off to Belgium in a few weeks, but first I've got to get through tonights all-nighter fashion fiasco. (Midnight calls, gotta love 'em).
Fashion week is always nuts. The Spring Collection show (which goes up in September) happened when I had been living in New York for less than a month and started with a knife fight at a diner at 3:30am. This one wasn't quite so bad. I got to see Donna Karan's DKNY collection (ew, ew, ick, ick! Schlumpy cardigans are back again!) and another designer named Luella Bartley. If you look up Luella's pictures, you'll see her fall 2006 collection was done in this green carpeted room thing, not a runway. The show was in a crazy Old Boy's club on the Upper East Side - all dark wood panelling and big leather chairs, very swanky, very old-men-in-smoking-jackets-drinking-brandy. And there were loads of big scary portraits of Republican presidents lining the walls. The media mob had been placed at one end of the room (and there are TONS of photographers and video people all crammed onto a tiny little platform - terribly amusing, watching them jockey for position) right up against a big portrait of George HW Bush. One of the photographers kept leaning against the picture and the lighting designer was FREAKING OUT. He was like "That picture is worth more than my entire company!! Stop touching it!!" Very exciting.
And back at the theater, we've been loading in an operatic version of Hercules with this huge, gargantuan concrete set and corkboard floor that's supposed to look like sand. The last time I unloaded a shipping container truck, I ended up in the hospital with a fleck of Styrofoam lodged firmly in my eyeball. This time, when we threw open the container doors, what was one of the first things off the truck? Yup, Styrofoam. I spent the day slightly paranoid. And the crew that came from France with the show had never put the set together before, so for the last forty-eight hours we've been trying to puzzle together this ginormous set. Many many many many pieces. Many many hours of French head scratching.
Off to Belgium in a few weeks, but first I've got to get through tonights all-nighter fashion fiasco. (Midnight calls, gotta love 'em).
posted by Amy at
8:00 PM
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