Wednesday before the show we had a models run through, which was pretty intimidating if you're an "older model" ('model' like car or electronic model, not "hey look at me I'm beautiful" model. I shudder at the thought of saying that) and standing among the newest versions. Everywhere young 20's are peacocking, looking around and staring each other down. I'm trying not to sweat through my long sleeve, which I instantly regret wearing, except its cold outside.
There are girls doing yoga poses as I get closer to the doors, no joke, body defying poses. I can't help but laugh inside because I'm wondering if they're warming up--do we really need to be that limber??
This was why, Soul Yoga Lounge on the runway with probably the most amazingly athletic people I've ever seen in person.
I walk, its scary standing in the light at the end, alone. I finish, then sit with the girls of Savoir-Faire while we wait for everyone to be done so we can run back to the shop and try on a different outfit. I have a last minute wardrobe change to try on (yay!). I am such an oddball, they're wearing chucks, skirts, beanies, crossbody satchels, funky glasses, and a cool vibe. I have my hair split down the middle, and a frown. I am contemplating a new style...
My original outfit was a neon see through beaded tank top, and tight denim with heels. My new outfit is a neon tube skirt (when I described this in person, I made the closed in motion, saying "it was like 'whooooo'", which was the sucking in noise), a sheer black top and a black/white striped bandeau, black heels, and a royal blue ball cap. I'm not sure about the ball cap, but they're uber high fashion and I just do what they say. Its exciting, I finally feel really great about my outfit, its what I expected and definitely something different.
I've resolved to just go with the flow, find the good, and count this as an unusual experience to talk about for years..."this one time"...
Friday comes. I'm a ball of anxiety, though I have no reason to be. I agree to go for a run with a friend, she's amazingly athletic and even pushes Lillian for me the entire 3.1 miles. We finish under 30 minutes by TWO seconds, which makes me feel awesome. I've run my anxiety officially out, and I go back home to shower and get ready. They've asked for second day hair, but I can't do that now. I'm not bringing my stank hair to somewhere I'm already nervous about.
I'm driving around Fayetteville square, finally settling on a meter spot, it's 3 o'clock, I'm an hour early for hair and makeup. I take this opportunity to check out the shops down there, including Savoir-Faire since I haven't even seen their merchandise yet, just the upstairs. My personality is pretty inhibited because I have nothing but foundation on, which is also what they said to show up in. Having relied on makeup for so long to boost my self esteem, I have no confidence and just feel like hiding. I know I will feel better after hair and makeup.
I walk to Chancellor Hotel, where its all being hosted and sit at the bar. I ask for an ice water with lemon, and dig around in my sad little beach bag for money because I left my purse in the car, of course because not knowing anybody or what we're doing, I might be robbed or something...
Its finally time to go upstairs, I get an email telling me which room we were assigned. I walk up and the SF team is putting out trays of food and drinks, putting away champagne (YES!!) bottles and waters in the mini fridge. Girls keep arriving, the room is smaller and smaller each time, and we're crowding both beds trying to sit like ladies and make small chat. I quickly realize most of these girls know each other, and are in their early 20's.
I overhear one really pretty girl grumble "I'm 24, feeling really OLD with you all."
In my head I hear "Don't. Say. A. Word. Everybody thinks you're their age!!!!"
I can't talk, its like I've forgotten how to be friendly. I find my smile, its the only thing not separating me as the weird quiet girl. They're talking about people they each know, and how they're all connected. I look around and find 3-4 girls who I KNOW for sure are my age, because I've met one at a friend's scentsy party, and the other is married to someone I went to high school with. These. These are the girls I will probably warm up to, but they're feeling just as out of place and quiet as I am.
Makeup team arrives and starts pulling girls into their chairs for concealer.
"You're good." He nods to one girl.
"Let me look at you." he motions to me, I obediently raise my head feeling like a sunflower to the light, and next thing I hear, "Yeah, Do you want to come with me??"
I'm a little put off, not having passed the great complexion test. I sit in the "failed" chair.
"Do you want champagne?" I hear, I don't even know where its coming from but I follow the voice in the cluster of girls. YES. I could use a little bubbly. I eat. I veg. I don't want to have a hungry headache, and definitely don't want to feel tipsy, even though its not high alcohol content.
I sit. I smile. I eat. Finally I'm called for hair, and am summoned to the hallway where two chairs are set up.
Girl on the left graduated from Paul Mitchell's program, girl on right laughs and tells me she's from Career of Hair Academy and still in the process (apparently she considers CHA lower grade than PM). She acts like she's super nervous and doesn't know how to curl, then creates a non-flattering inward curl for my bangs, laughing at herself the whole time. I can't make it not feel dumb. It springs back EVERY. TIME.
I'm back inside, trying to introduce myself to the sweet girl who's married to my old classmate (who is coincidentally ABlondeAmbition-the super cute fashion blogger), and the curl keeps bouncing back. I know from her expression it doesn't look good. I see it in the mirror, so I stand behind the super cute main hair stylist (who just had a baby but didn't look like it at all), knowing she will have pity on me. It works, she pins it back since I'm wearing a hat anyways and teases my hair. It grows, I'm finally starting to feel like myself.
I make conversation with the lady who's doing my makeup,
(which is obviously not me, but that's my makeup artist)
She's been doing this each show, having specialized in makeup for years. Its all she does. She puts fake eyelashes on, lots of blush, a little liner and shadow, sends me on my way. Feeling much better, a lot like all the pressure isn't on me any more, but on the hair/makeup/styling teams.
We all start changing, which means all modesty is out the door. The door closes to our room, and I finally make it into the bathroom to change, with two other girls. One changes in the shower, I change by the door, the other between the toilet and counter. Its an interesting awkward conversation, mumbling promises of not looking and trying to shield your bare bodies. I share my last couple of cover up flower petals, feeling even better now since hearing "We're not supposed to have big boobs, we're the models. We're all flat chested." from one of the girls. That's right. Embrace your flat chestedness!
We line up in the hall, lipstick having been applied, shirts tucked, shoes on. We're across the hall from PYT (pretty young things) in the Vintage Violet show. I'm pretty sure they do it better than we do, being so young and full of so much energy. They can't be but 12-13, some fully developed. Younger, more confident versions of us. Semi awkward. Then one of them knocks over the ironing board that's holding all the hair stuff, finally breaking the ice and making us feel better about being older. Little lambs.
We take the elevator, head downstairs. Wait in order in the hall directly behind backstage, listening to the loud music. We're pulled aside by 3's to do short clips and behind the scenes pictures. We didn't know exactly what to do, but to smile and have "the best time".
Girls from Lola Boutique come walking out with puppies for Strut For A Mutt. Soooo adorable, we crowd and touch, because who can't resist touching puppies? I can.
Intermission time, so we wait and sit for 20 minutes before we go out. One lady is there to make things run smoothly, she provides gloss so our lips aren't dry, napkins to wipe our fingers off on, a hand held mirror, waters, (even finds an old black shirt to wipe lotion off a black skirt for a model who spilled it on her outfit. Oops. Don't panic.)
We are ready to go. We stand behind stage, the main hostess preps us for what we're to do...
Again, not our group but she does the same for us.
SF's music starts playing, video starts showing, and then it all falls silent. I am third in order. Deep breaths, last minute practice poses for the end of the runway. I decide on hands on hips (which I later regret for walking down the runway). My smile is plastered, Tess's words "Smile the whole way down" playing repeat in my head. Its not a real smile. But I can't think, because I'm concentrating solely on my legs, "One foot in front of the other. Don't sway too much. SMILE..."
From the pictures, I was feeling pretty good about it all. Then I watched the video, I am a baby giraffe learning to walk...at least I hit my practiced poses...
We wait for everyone to go, then a finale of all the girls. We are slightly untimed, some walking too fast, some not fast enough. Exit.
We all walk back up to the room and begin changing, putting our outfits back into the suit bags, grabbing our purses, and our goody bags. Then, just like that, its over. I'm walking out on the street into the cold, behind some girls I had just met, we don't talk. I say "Nice meeting you guys." and they say it back. Then turn the corner and are gone.
"But, I shared deodorant and sticky boobs with you..."
I am filling the dishwasher the next morning, my migraine from all the perfume and excitement finally gone. The girls are fighting. Its done. My life is back to normal.
Here's some of the most memorable girls from the show and our night...
The last is the official NWAFW window shopper/stylist blogger. We watched as she and the film crew from KNWA came backstage and did a quick interview with her. Right.In.Front.Of.Us. I'm not sure who the super confident model is with short hair, but she was everywhere, she knew everyone. And then the twins, who were in several shows and wore matching/complimenting outfits.
And, of course, the lovely Anna (Tulip Louise)...
who is a big time fashion blogger who just moved to New York, but came back for the show. So odd to think I went to high school with her for a year at Southside, and to see where she is now. Isn't she darling??
That's it. I've finally blogged my whole experience. It was amazing.
Peacelove.
Kes
P.S. These are clearly not my photos. I borrowed them from NWAFW's main page and floating FB pictures to help illustrate my experience.
P.P.S. 188 hits on last post, thanks for making that my best yet :)
P.P.P.S. I saw the pictures from the girl's show who I was going to be half naked art for.
I am suddenly NOT sad it didn't work out. That would have been me. I mentioned that to a friend, and she said "Maybe that was a God thing. To keep you from that." I think so. I would NOT have been comfortable in this.
