Lights, Camera, Now Walk Down That Runway, Darling
By Helyne Adamson
Up on the rooftop of some building, a few stars dare to peek out in the sky, as a bar tender serves $3 cranberry-orange juice drinks and free beer in the corner; some broken pretzels lay sullen at the bottom of the pretzel bowl, and the wind is just beginning to pick up. Aaaaaahhhh, the lovely scene before my first fashion show, and although the cold wind really blew me into shivers (this whole being outside thing is overrated), I'm not one to complain, think of the models, and all in all I think I thoroughly enjoyed myself.
The first designer, Suilika, had some interesting clothes, but I don't
remember them being incredibly astounding. A black shaggy, tube dress here, a tan skirt and crimson tube top there. After the half hour wait preceding the show, the lights diminished once more to signify the beginning of the next designer, Junker. The four of us had met a friend of the fashion creator during the break that was wonderfully nice. His Junker jacket had me all excited to see with what this fashionist would reveal, which was apparently a bit extreme, especially with the two half naked girls in the back dancing to music, but still some interesting clothing. Umm, fun, but not my style.
Aimisu, our next fashionist, was quite superb. I do happen to remember a marvelous green dress that I rather liked (if ever the chance, I'd put it on in a jiffy). The strings at the top of the dress crossed to form an "X" at the model's clavicle and the rest just hung from the chest downwards to her thighs. It was lovely and flowy too.
The next night I feel might have been slightly better, considering that a. I was now well aware to dress warmly, b. I brought a book for the 30-45 minute wait in between each show, and c. several of the models tripped while walking, which I know I should not laugh at, but...
I sat and waited, glaring at the plastic grocery bag my mother had given me filled with snacks in case I got hungry, and noticed the pretzel bowls had been filled again. The tape men fixed the lighting and in a few minutes, the show began. Mell 2608 was the designer's name, but I wouldn't know that I would want to know this until after the first model. She came strutting down the runway in a bright orange cut off shoulder shirt with a bright shiny green skirt. I loved it.
Each model came down in turn and as each one did, the colors, if not the clothes, got me every time. Several of the models had on spanky pants (a.k.a. short shorts a.k.a. those shorts that look like underwear but are called shorts for the heck of it) and I must admit I wouldn't mind a pair of my own, especially if they came in those colors (i.e. hot red, minty green, fluorescent orange, and blue lagoon). Anyway, the point is that the clothing line proved amazing.
Uriel Saenr had some fairly descent clothes - many flowing, hanging off the shoulder shirts and dresses. And after that, Erica Rose came out with some quaint character clothing. Such diversity, however, between all her clothes made it a bit hard to concentrate. Yet, one still caught my eye. Checkered pink and white, it looked like a suit made of a lovely jacket and a charming knee-length skirt. And finally came time for the last designer for the entire showpiece, Deborah Lindquist. Not astounding, but her clothes didn't look too dreadful; the colors were more what got to me than the designs. They appeared a bit drab and too tame.
At long last, the models lined up and took their final bow, but as they did this, one could see Tiffany and me making our great escape through the back doors. Having to wait for valet to pick up our cars might take forever, so we made a dash down the stairs (once, nearly breaking my spine, but still all in good fun) and made it down first to the car park. Success was ours!
The entire trip gave me very many fond memories: the designers, the clothing, the half hour waiting, the freezing cold, the chairs, the pretzels (oh those dear pretzels), the bands, the people, those 3 dollar drinks even. And even though the show had its faults and blunders, it truly was what a fashion show should be.