Sunday, August 23, 2009
Post all-nighter me with Lucas Ossendrijver and Alber Elbaz - Image /Steve Wood
It's never a sensible choice to stay out all night during fashion week. First there's the workload - for me it means waking up at 8:00am, getting to the first show by 9:00am, running around the city from one backstage to another front of house, often evading security and PRs, getting home around 10:00pm then writing the day's events for the blog. Exhaustion is already a given and an all-nighter never helps the situation. Second, there's the appearance. Staying out all night means turning up to the shows the next day in the same thing as the day before. Now that I think about it that one doesn't affect me so badly - after all I do generally wear the same thing everyday - but a shower is always a good idea. But most of all is the hysteria that sets in. I get a little crazed after no sleep. A bit delirious, a tad hysterical, a smidge manic. One moment I'll be almost crying over all the beauty in the world, the next I'll be this close to picking a fight with a security guard outside Dior Homme. I think it's fair to say I'm already a touch OTT at the best of times but it all gets slightly magnified on no sleep.
I've only had two late-late nights during Fashion Week, both at Paris menswear (January and June), and, quite coincidentally, both the nights before Lanvin and Dior Homme. It's just occurred to me that maybe the lack of sleep could be the culprit behind my complete and utter failure to get into the Dior show. Both days started out swimmingly - no dramas at Lanvin - first time round I breezed in with Ash Stymest (he gave me, Jordan and Anouk a ride in his taxi - I'm not sure we would have found it or gotten in otherwise) and second time I was with Dayne and Zippora and we had no issues. But as the day goes on I always start to lose the plot as sleep-deprived-depression sets in. The Dior Homme show is at about 3:00pm - at which stage I'm at my absolute worst - so perhaps all that exhausted angst is holding me back from being able to talk the PR agents into letting me in.
Moral of the story: go to bed the night before the show next time.
If there was some point to all this I swear I've forgotten it. It's Sunday. I'm tired and rambling.
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