If I had to blame anyone for the trauma of attending Fashion Week as a total virgin, I’d send my counselling bills to our fashion writer Brittany.
She’s lovely and talented and very good at her job. She’s good at fashion week. She’s good at trends and clothes but she’s not good at foresight.
Because if Britt had great (or, you know, any) foresight, she wouldn’t have moved to our Sydney office last month and left me (a news writer) with the responsibility of covering Melbourne’s VAMFF with my unoriginal fashion taste and penchant Adidas superstar sneakers and skinny jeans.
But alas, I was sent to VAMFF with nothing more than my phone and instructions to bring the people (you) wearable trends and advice. Which would be helpful if I wasn’t someone who actually needed to read the post for advice.
This is how my first night went down.
6.30pm Realise my night is off to an absolute cracker start when I’ve finished getting ready after an entire day of weighing up what to wear, head downstairs and my sister proceeds to ask me what I’m thinking of wearing to the show.
6.31pm Weigh up whether I should admit already I’m dressed and ready, or swallow my pride and get changed. Go with the former. She laughs and hits me harder with a few more insults for good measure, asking if it’s themed “emo” and telling me my smokey eye isn’t pulled off particularly well and that I look like I have been punched in the eye. Twice.
6.32pm Silently repeat all the reasons why I want her to move out so much.
6.35pm Mum gets home. Wants to know why I’m wearing denim shorts “with lots of holes in them” that “could pass as underwear”. I tell her it’s you know, fashion. I laugh but it comes across as kind of squeaky and a little bit clunky because I am wearing denim shorts to fashion week and not even I am sure if that’s a thing.
Another extremely helpful fashion study that the Mamamia Out Loud team discuss. Post continues after audio.
8.00pm Finally get to Melbourne’s Exhibition building and keep my eye out for all zee ‘Influencers’. Re-consider why I’m so desperate to see them in the flesh when I follow them all on Instagram and therefore know what time they got their make-up done, how they’ve styled their hair, what they’re wearing and their top three preferences for the name of their second child.
8.05pm Pick up my tickets from the lovely woman from AMPR who is doing the PR for VAMFF. She also tells me I have access to an open bar while I wait which I pretend to be excited about. Am too embarrassed to admit to her I might as well be 12 because I am still on my P-plates and therefore can’t drink while I’m driving.
8.06 Curse Britt, because I know somehow my inability to drink free champagne is all her fault.