Fashion Week

I have had a very busy week. Monday night I received a phone call from a set designer who needed help with the Vena Cava show at Olympus Fashion Week. Early Tuesday morning I met him at a large prop store in Manhattan, he quickly gave me the rundown of the show, an envelope of money, and a list of things i needed to buy for him or source. I was about to loose it. WHAT in the world have I agreed to, and can I even do this? But in the words of FDR, the "only thing we have to fear is fear itself." So i hailed my first taxi and spent the next 8 hours managing my checklist and feeling very accomplished. Wednesday night was spent working on prepping some of the props, and I was given the opportunity to put my artistic training to task. Fashion Week is hosting the spring lines of the designers, so the Vena Cava show was designed with spring in mind. Rather than a catwalk, the set designer decided to bring in grass and create vignettes around the room that guests and press could walk up to and take photos. The "birdwatchers" needed to be 'sketching' birds, so out came the charcoal and newsprint and i created 20 sketches of birds to be used in the show.

This photo and many more can be seen on Style.com. Thursday morning did not afford any sleeping in, because I had to wake up before the sun did and run some last minute errands, such as picking up the sign i had printed, and be at Bryant Park for a 9:30 briefing. Rain in New York is not like rain in Seattle (which I can handle), but it seems to get everywhere. The doorman at the St. George is an old Jewish man who stays up late nights letting in the various college students who drag in at all hours. He saw my dismay at the rain, and the 10 bags i was carrying, and he not only gave me a garbage bag to put my things in, but he called me a car and proceeded to talk with me while i waited. I had a negative impression about New Yorkers before I arrived, but I find that most of them are really helpful. some are such characters that I feel as if i'm in a movie and these are all the extras. The driver who picked me up was a born and bred Brooklyn-ite (?) who kept me entertained in traffic with stories of when he was young and stationed in Seattle.

I had to purchase dry ice (to simulate smoke for the "the barbeque") from United Ice on W. 45th, family owned and operated for 5 generations by a family of Italians. Walking in I was greeted with "hey dollface, what can we get for you?" and "are you the fashion people? Hey, look at my hair, do ya think I could be a fashion guy? Do you think this guy could be a fashion guy too?" When I came out of that store, carrying 20 lbs. of dry ice and feeling like my shoulder might disconnect from my body, AND being short on cash for a cab, i proceed to walk up two avenues and over 8 blocks. Now when you are summoned to help with something as glamourous as fashion week, you better be sure that you look good, if only for your own self-esteem. But after I arrived for the briefing, my bangs (which had slipped out of my hood) were wet and drying in a curly, kinky sort of way, not to mention i almost passed out from walking so far with full hands (i guess this is the life of an intern).

The next 3 hours were mayhem. I got separated from our group and had to sneak in with the make-up artists and grab credentials. The show was very prop heavy, and the grass took a long time to unroll and measure, and cut. But in the end it turned out beautiful and I was able to sit and watch socialites, designers, press, and various glamorous people mingle with their wine glasses tinking, stilettos tapping, oohing and ahhing, and gabbing about the fashion displayed on anorexic models. Models look even thinner in real life, and some seemed to be no older than 14.

The designer I am working with, Andrew Ondrejcak, went to the Savannah College of Art and Design for architecture. But he abandoned that and began working with sets, and he also lectures at the MOMA on painting and sculpture. Oh, did I mention Vogue approached him during the Vena Cava show and wants him to style a shoot for them? So fortunately for me, this temporary internship is going to be extended into the long term semester deal. But my story does not stop there....

Part of being an intern in a job like this is the delightful experience of making returns......... I returned an exorbant amount of stuff back to Anthropologie in soho. I think that all of New York was in Soho yesterday, which is bad news when you are pushing a cart through crowded sidewalks. I even knicked some guy in the back of the ankle..oops. And who knew that Broadway and West Broadway were two DIFFERENT streets? Not a girl from the west coast. It took me an hour of walking to find the Anthropologie (I had called earlier and Miss Sassy on the phone would not tell me exactly where they were...she was too busy). After I received the cash for the items, I had to book it up to Harlem where Andrew was shopping for African objects for a traveling booth he is designing for World Concern. By the time I made it to the subway station I was sweating like I had just completed a triatholon (excuse me, for those who say girls don't sweat...try running with a cart through New York. Let's just say i was humbled). There was no attendant in this subway station, which would have solved my problem, because I got stuck in the turnstyle with that damned cart. I am usually a fairly patient person, but Manhattan was faced with a whole different Lauren at that point. For those who do not know, once you swipe your Metro card, you cannot do it again for the next 18 minutes, or you must go to another station. Angry and crying I ran 7 blocks to the next station...the time was ticking. I begged the worker at the next station to let me through a big black door, because there was no way i was going to try and fit the cart through again.

This story ends well, because Andrew got his money and his Africa stuff before it closed, and I was able to pass off to him that ridiculous cart. So while fashion week was a great opportunity, and working with a designer is a good experience, I might just age a bit this semester with the stress I'll deal with being an intern.