8 things I wish I said at #NZFW.
We've all walked away from an event, a person, or a circumstance and wished we'd said certain things. Here's 8 I wish I said at NZFW, as well as a taste for Day Three events; my thoughts on emerging and established designers.
“There’s a lot I don’t relate to about fashion.”
Day Three of Fashion Week, and thanks to Blair Archibald, I come to terms with the fact that I don't agree nor relate to everything about fashion and its world. But can we still like, admire and enjoy something.. whilst positioning ourselves in its grey area?
NZFW // Weddings, Wynn Hamlyn and that’s a Wrap.
To the absolute pleasure of some, NZFW has finally closed its curtains for 2017. A friend had announced some wise words earlier in the week, “come Friday and I really don’t want to be here”, as if to predict the way I too would feel by close. I was sore from too much sitting and uncomfortable from too much standing. My SIM card was and does remain galore with content of which I am progressively losing the brain capacity to curate. That’s right, I’m asking for your pity. But even more so, for a breathe of fresh air, a break…
You look good in anything you wear. Really?
Just about every second night, I rock up at my boyfriend’s place dressed in his grey trackpants (arguably mine), a pair of stained Nike sneakers and at the very least, four layers of jumpers on top. I literally look like The Rock after a cheat meal – perhaps even bigger. “When you’re girlfriend makes no effort and still looks beautiful,” I’ll mock, aware that I’m breaking just about every rule in both the fashion, and the girl-guy book, and that I’m far from doing so in a cool manner. “You do. You could wear anything and you’d…
NZFW Day 3 // So is it all that glamorous?
Delegate passes and DSLRs aside, Fashion Week is not as glamorous as it seems. Each year, I set out with a series of expectations, and leave having satisfied few of them. Fortunately, I’ve always been more stimulated by spontaneity. If things only ever amounted to the level of our expectations, life would be boring. On day three of Fashion Week, I found myself dressed in clothes worth more than my bank account. I was sitting front row in the 7th of 16 shows I’d attend. All lights faded to announce the start, except for one. It was my phone, illuminating…