We’ve have always felt the most at home during Fashion Week. Approaching the tented spectacle, we move fast through the crowds, brandishing electronic invitations on our iPhone, caring little for the see-and-be-seen crowd. Waking up at the crack of 9:30 to make the 10:00 BCBG show, we’re runway ready after a double espresso and three cigarettes, bon chic bon genre oozing out of our every pore. Heading backstage after the show, we’ll kiss the lovely Lubov, congratulating the indefatigable designer on yet another successful collection of draped chiffon dresses. After une petite sieste, we’ll catch the Cynthia Rowley show. Chatting with our art-world chum Bill Powers in the front row, we’ll watch as the flirty fashions are paraded down the runway. Back at home, we’ll ponder the nature of personal style choices in a postcapitalist world. Just kidding. We’ll pour a stiff nightcap, ensuring we’re well rested for tomorrow’s labors.
BCBG Max Azria, Lincoln Center, 10 a.m. Cynthia Rowley, IAC Building, 555 West 18th Street, 7 p.m.