The Runway Is Like a Strip Club and Other Observations From a Fashion Week Virgin

Usually, the closest I get to designer clothes is via collaborations at Target. It was never a dream of mine to attend Fashion Week. But I live and work in New York City, surrounded on all sides by fashion editors, and this year I gave in to their insistence that going to a runway show was a can't-miss experience.

For my first time, I settled on Betsey Johnson, which felt right because when I was a teenager in Pensacola, FL, Betsey was one of the cool stores I visited when I went to the big city. Turns out, the unconventional runway show pulled models from ranks of drag queens, Real Housewives, and other nontraditional walkers, along with a few regular pros. While the experience wasn't your typical solemn-chic fashion show, the over-the-top vibe was more my style, and I feel like I get the gist now when it comes to Fashion Week. Here's what I learned as a Fashion Week virgin.

Seating is a total sh*t show.
Getty | Larry Busacca

Seating is a total sh*t show.

I assumed that since the crowd is mostly made up of celebrities and professionals, everyone would politely file into their assigned seats and only move to a better spot right before the show. But no: as soon as people start filing in, they're jockeying for better seats and pouncing on any vacant spot in the hopes that someone won't show up. Also, when I sat down, there was a gift bag under my seat, but by the time the show was over, someone had snatched it. These people are animals!

It's really squishy.
Billy Farrell Agency | Will Ragozzino/BFAnyc.com

It's really squishy.

Fashion Week is perhaps the only "glamorous" event where everyone is seated on benches, really close to each other, as if in an elementary school cafeteria.

Things do look different up close.
Getty | Frazer Harrison

Things do look different up close.

Seeing the clothes in person and in three dimensions really added to my perception of the designs, and being just a few feet from models made me appreciate that most everyone has imperfect skin (with the possible exception of J Lo).

It felt like being at a strip club.
Getty | Frazer Harrison

It felt like being at a strip club.

I mean, that's the only other time I have seen so many other women's bare butts.

Everyone looks famous.
Getty | Michael Stewart

Everyone looks famous.

I did spot Miss J of Top Model fame, but given that most people are wearing a.) outrageous clothes, b.) sunglasses, or c.) both, it's hard to distinguish the celebrities from the civilians. The fact that I didn't even notice the presence of a handsome Nigel Barker proves how nutso it was.

Models are taller (and skinnier) than I expected.
Getty | Edward James

Models are taller (and skinnier) than I expected.

Though I hate to admit it, I love the way that clothes hang on tall, spindly models. In person, though, the catwalkers look REALLY tall and spindly. I did find myself admiring one model's thurves, aka thigh curves (I know it's a word because I made it up), thinking, "Now, she has nice legs!" — only to realize it was a man (Willam Belli, in the little blue number).

Everyone is taking photos.
Billy Farrell Agency | Billy Farrell/BFAnyc.com

Everyone is taking photos.

Seriously, every single person in the tent has a phone raised above his or her head, attempting to get at least one photo that isn't blurry (it's really hard; those models walk fast). No matter that there are THIS MANY photographers posted up at the end of the runway taking, you know, professional photos.

Street style isn't what you think.
Instagram | wheresmydriver

Street style isn't what you think.

Looking at street style photos, I always imagined these chic people walking down rather empty side streets and just happening upon a photographer while looking chic. In reality, outside of Lincoln Center, street style feels like its own elaborate production. Dozens of photographers line up to shoot "real women," including hundreds of people who hang out there all day getting their photos taken and women who will, say, walk across the street multiple times so the photog can get the perfect snap.

Seriously, no one is paying any attention to you.
Getty

Seriously, no one is paying any attention to you.

Trying to get snapped by a street style photog is one thing, but otherwise, unless you're part of the front-row elite, it really does not matter what you wear because no one cares who you are or what you look like. I could have worn pajamas and a headlamp. (In which case, you might be looking at the latest street style star.)