New York Fashion Week
I’d say my NYC Fashion Week experience was one that was slightly different from most people’s. I generally don’t care much about fashion week – I try to avoid places where I will be judged for what I am wearing/saying/doing by people who I couldn’t care less about – but somehow I ended up at a fashion week after party. Lucky for me, I ended up in hipster central – you all know how much I love hipsters. There were lots of men in flannels, which I am never against. Shit, just give me a cute guy in a flannel, maybe a little facial hair, and I melt. What was I talking about?
Oh yeah. I guess all you really need to know to understand the gist of the night is I found a ladder to climb because I got bored, got lectured by a hipster kid about how water bottles are worse for your health than cigarettes (sure, kid, sure they are), took a picture with a giant stuffed lion, did the robot outside in the meat packing district with a hipster kid that looked like Macaulay Culkin, and watched a caribbean man grab J Money by the hair and harass her because a miniature lumberjack kicked over a traffic cone.
Yep. That is pretty much everything you need to know. Fuck fashion week.