Dear NY – Fashion Week is a crock. I lived it. I suffered. I rocked the head set, I elbowed a model in her visible ribs, and I snuck into after partys to come out saying: ITS OVERRATED. Seriously, blogs and magazines will try and bewitch you into thinking its glamorous and a celebration of fashion! and art! Unless you’re Lauren Santo Domingo, frankly its just a bunch of egomaniacal queens, crackheads, and the most chirpity chickenhead PR tards in the biz stink-eyeing the bejezus out of each other in the cold dreary unpleasantness of February. Check, please!
Which got me to thinking about how awesome public policy is…Today marks my one year anniversary at work and damn it feels good to be a gangster. It all began with the company’s annual wine-tasting event at the Richmond office, where politics, southern drawls, fur coats, chard, and pork all mixed atop clackity marble floors. It was love at first name drop.
Headed back to VA with the gang tonight and this is what I’ll wear to hopefully understand the “impress clients but still look professional” assignment: