As many of you guys know, I’ve spent the last few weeks debating long and hard over whether or not it made sense for me to go to New York Fashion Week at seven months pregnant.
Which sounds, insane, right? Like, seriously? In the middle of the worst winter we’ve had in decades, I’m going to fly for three hours to go to a city that’s filled with snow, when I could just chill out in Houston and look at the photos on Style.com?
I’m going to put myself through the torture of watching skinny 14-year-old models when I’m carrying a permanent bowling ball around my waist?
I’m going to try to dress for FASHION WEEK in MATERNITY CLOTHES?
So, I thought long and hard about it, and I decided that no, I wouldn’t go. I’ll just sit out this season. I’ve been to the last eight consecutive seasons, but this one I’ll just… miss. In my head, I settled it.
Only… I didn’t cancel my hotel reservation. And as the show invites came in, I couldn’t quite bear to decline them. So the invites kept piling up, and eventually the reminders started piling up, and it all came down to this morning, when I had to make a decision.
Go. Or don’t go.
So I started declining the invitations, and emailing my various contacts to say that I’m sitting this season out.
And you know what?
It felt awful. I was sitting there fighting back tears and wishing I could go, awful.
And I was so sad and disappointed about my decision to not go, that I started to think, “if it feels this bad, why do I think this is the right decision?”
Because, you know what? I love Fashion Week. It’s exhausting and overwhelming and totally insane, but it’s one of my favorite weeks of the year.
And missing it just feels… wrong.
So I changed my mind. My hotel is already booked, and I grabbed a quick plane ticket on miles, and now, suddenly, I’m going to February Fashion Week! Yes, at seven months pregnant. Yes, in the snow and freezing cold. Yes, maybe it’s crazy, and maybe I’ll regret it, but right now… it feels like the right decision. I’m going to keep a very light schedule, so I don’t get totally overwhelmed, and concentrate mostly on shows at Lincoln Center instead of running all over the city. I’m only going for a few days. I’ll drink lots of water and wear a jacket and do all those sensible things to make sure me and the baby are safe and sound.
But… I’m going.
And I am So. Damn. Excited.