Confession: Here is my outfit for the local fashion show. Guess what? NOT GOOD FOR KNEELING IN THE PHOTOG PIT TO TAKE PHOTOS OF THE MODDLES, GUYZ. Also? Why was I the only one in the photog pit not just in a dress, but FEMALE?!?! Plus, I held hands with a woman on stilts, clad in a flaming red costume with so many sequins. She insisted. There were also people roller skating in head-to-toe spandex with little flashing light tubes twisted around every inch. It was like someone threw up Burning Man into a giant convention center, right into the khaki laps of its attendees. Like, there was actual fire and I didn't like it, y'all. ACTUAL FIRE FLAMING FIERY HOT AND I WAS YAAAAAWWWWWWWNNNNNNNN. So bored.
The fashion part was stellar, for the most part, like red carpet, hand-beaded Bollywood madness. I wanted to snatch every dreamy tunic off those skinny models and wear them scandalously, without pants, and sky high heels. Plus, I got to pop backstage and meet the designer.
Oh, and I was forced to drink a Jack and coke (I know) and now plan to NEVER go out to one of these things without at least two bottles of mini-booze in my bag. To be on the safe side. Like a grown-up version of a Girl Scout.
PS. M took these photos of me. Didn't she do a really, really good job? Isn't the one with two faces awesomely creepy?
PPS. I love love love my new haircut. It is exactly what I wanted and I got it all wavy like this just by scrunching. SCRUNCH.