My First Runway Show

Susie Hollands, my favorite Scottish client and good girlfriend, gave me the best b-day present yet! My birthday is actually on Sunday.

She took me to the Stella Cadente runway show, one of my favorite designers. A Ukranian designer known for her bright and airy look, I just love her clothes because they are really feminine and sexy without being frilly - something I'm not. She also put out a great scent called "Miss Me" earlier in the spring, and I just love it!

Since I was a little kid, I've always been mesmorized by clothes and whenever I could catch bits of an actual runway show from Paris, Milan or New York on the tube via CNN or some other outlet, I was there. Since moving to France, I've been watching the shows on the Paris Premiere network, which shows recaps in primetime. CNN's fashion correspondent, Elsa Klench was my guide to the world of fashion. In fact along with my mother, she's responsible for my obsession with shoes. After all, it was Elsa who turned me on to Manolo Blahnik shoes and Bottega Veneta handbags, not Sex and City's Carrie Brawshaw!

Susie and I agree to meet at the metro just across from the Louvre, where apparently most runway shows take place. The atmostphere was crazy, with people dressed all in black - myself included, running around - journalists, designers, models, PR people alike. It was great because in Sarah Turnbull's book, Almost French, she talks about how wild runway shows can be, and the worst thing that can happen is gettting stuck with standing-room only passes. None of that foolishness for us. The security guards and show's staff couldn't have been more nice and gracious.

It probably took Susie and I at least 45 minutes to hook up with each other through the crowd. Finally, as we're trying to locate each other via text messages, I find her standing under the inverted, glass pyramid holding the phone up to her ear. Yep, it's the Louvre alright.

When we get inside through the metal detectors, we realize that the PR folks have only sent us one ticket instead of two. I didn't want Susie to miss the show, but she insisted I take the ticket because she was going to use her press pass. I waited outside the queue with everyone else. Finally, I hear a young woman say "Are there are members of the British press here?" I quickly throw up my hand in the air. In my perfect mimic of Ms. Hollands' accent I say, "Susie Hollands of the Sunday Times!" She takes my hand and leads me to the front of the line. I'm in at this point and on my way to a wonderful seat.

Still nervous because Susie hadn't surfaced yet. I finally receive another texto from Susie, "I'm seated - in the first row!!!" "Alright, I'm seated in the third row!," I reply. It turns out that Susie was seated next to the "real" Sunday Times" reporter and they got on famously! I'm chatting it up with a nice student from Boston. She's studying fashion PR at the American University Paris (AUP). Then I switched off my cell phone in order to enjoy the show. We rocked out to the Clash, Queens of the Stone Age and Iggy Pop. The models were on stage with dancers from the Moulin Rouge and they were having a great time. Then the show ended.

I've always been shocked by how quickly a runway show ends because there's so much planning and preparation put into it. But we had a great time anyway. We topped off the day with some wonderful lunch - which gave us a chance to talk about Bonapart and IVY's websites and plans for publicity. Let's just say that she left me at the Madeleine metro stop skipping back home via St. Lazare. Hope we can do it again next year!