TMI: A Totally Made Up NYFW Fantasy Day Log

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Do you ever catch yourself imagining a special trip for a special reason? Although you have never been to this particular place within a destination or the reality of actually going seems slim, do you fantasize about it anyway? That’s my current major crush situation with New York Fashion Week (NYFW).

NYFW is on my life bucket list. I’ve been to New York but not yet during fashion week. (Insert privileged sigh.) I want to see this and this and this up close with my own eyeballs. I’m sure you’ve all heard some version of the, “If you say you’ll do it tomorrow really means never,” saying. Ouch, my heart. That’s a bit black and white, even for icy me. I do understand the sentiment behind it: doing the thing you want to do requires you to just do the damn thing. Understood, yes – however - I’m going to need a bit more time. 2019, perhaps?

Negativity aside - because who needs that in a made up fantasy of your own imagination – a hobgoblin can dream. Should you enjoy a random, but not actually happening IRL style day diary-like story, stay with me. This is how I imagine an ideal day at fashion week.

06:02 / Wake up in my impossibly soft, all white linens engulfed semi firm bed in a boutique hotel somewhere between the financial district and midtown. It’s not quite light out but there are glimmers. I whip off the linens, scoot to the bathroom, and hop into the humongous (for New York) shower with marble tiles, glass walls, and brass fixtures.

06:21 / After a long, hot shower I blow out and style my hair – and would you believe it’s an amazing hair day for me – and put on my face. Real talk.

06:43 / I skip past my cool-but-not-too-cool outfit that I laid out the night before because I’m dramatic and need sartorial options. I whip together an outfit including multiple silk scarves and huge earrings. It’s too much and I love it.

06:57 / I’m getting out the hotel doors and onto the street. At a nearby café, I grab an Americano and sip away. Likely taking a few minutes to check my Instagram for a social media buzz. My food comes out piping hot. It’s a single, medium poached egg with a yam, chorizo, and greens sautéed something. Maybe I’d have a nice piece of fresh, seedy bread to soak it all up.

07:46 / Now I’m off to the subway to head to take in the morning presentation I have tickets for. What designer you may ask? Turns fantasyland Sarah isn’t picky.

08:09 / I have arrived outside the presentation venue too early. Typical Sarah. To be honest I much prefer to be early so I can try to calm down my excitement a bit and people watch.

09:05 / Next up: I’m seated front row (who am I kidding, I’m way at the back and loving it) at presentation one. Naturally it starts only only five minutes fashionably late.

09:49 / After dying and coming back to life - because I become aware that everyone has left the space and the fluorescent flood lights flick back on - I gather my things and head out the door. Not before I take some empty room selfies, of course.

10:14 / For the next presentation I feel super fortunate because the second venue was a short walking distance from the first stop. Cute, right? Again, I creep from the outside before I head in.

11:26 / The second presentation is over. Dead. Again. This time I’m able to get out the door before the last of the people. Growth already.

12:41 / After walking to a lunch spot I sit down. First I order a sparkling water as I mull over the menu. There’s no need to rush so I take my sweet time. After the server comes over for the second time (I asked for a bit more time after the initial check in) I order a soup - let’s say mushroom - and tomato, pesto, and bocchini loaded croissant. After I finish my meal, I sit with a black, drop coffee and visually scour the room. “What are they wearing? Where are they going? How many rooms are in their impossibly natural light soaked apartment do they have?” These are just some of the questions I silently ponder.

13:48 / The afternoon is filled with discount department and vintage shopping. After four and three quarter hours fliiping through racks and digging in deep bins, I find it delightful that I find a regal blue velvet and fringe kimono (no label as it was cut out), a second hand silk square scarf – designer of course – and seven pairs of clip on earrings from decades before. Score.

18:31 / As I head back to my hotel to drop off my things and take a quick relax before the final presentation and dinner I take a new street I haven’t been down before. I get lost, pause to check my pre-downloaded Google Maps, and regain my bearings. Along the way I buy water from a street vendor cart and replay the day back in my mind so I seal in all the best details.

20:52 / The third presentation was the best. “It’s funny how it worked out that way,” I am thinking to myself as I sip my bourbon with two small ice cubes. My belly is full from dinner, I had swordfish BTW, and I’m high on life. Oh did I mention I didn’t have to pay for dinner as my partner was in town too for work and took me out? I’m a lucky gal.

23:08 / As I look out at the twinkling lights and ingest the blaring horns from my hotel’s roof top patio and finish my second bourbon, YOLO, with two small ice cubes, I pinch myself. What a day.

23:46 / After a hot shower to rinse the city off of my tired yet happy body I am tucked into that glorious bed again watching reality TV. With my hair wet on the pillow I take a gulp of water from the crystal tumbler glass on my nightstand (don’t worry, I filled it with bottled water) and I reach for the lamp.

23:53 / It’s snoozeville for me in the city that supposedly never sleeps. I guess that makes me an outsider. Touche.

Where would you like to go? Is it a fashion destination or something else entirely?