While on our first smoke break of what proved to be a very long first day of New York’s Fashion Week, the New York Observer found itself slouched down on one of the outdoor couches of Lincoln Center’s atrium. The tall gangly, man with bad skin and unruly hair next to us looked even more tired than we were. After striking up a conversation on the benefits of inhaling (it decreases stress; probably won’t kill you, and even if it does who cares?) we asked the gentleman, Edid, what he did for a living.
“I’m a fit model,” the young man said, fidgeting.
“A what?” Read More