For the last few weeks, I’ve been debating whether I should go to Fashion Week this February. I go back and forth — if it weren’t for being six months pregnant (eek!), I’d be there in a heartbeat, but between the travel and the NY weather and the standing up for hours on end and having maybe four outfits in my closet that fit me… I just can’t quite decide.
But then I thought about this dress. I bought it for Fashion Week in September, and when I went back to look at the post I’d written, I came across this:
There’s something a little magical about September Fashion Week.
And then I looked back at the first day of February Fashion Week, two seasons ago, and saw this:
You guys, in all the worrying I did about what to wear to fashion week, and the weather, and the travel, and all the other tiny things that have made my stomach flutter with nerves for the past weeks, I managed to forget one crucial detail… New York Fashion Week is just magical.
Because, that’s the thing. It really is magical, and it’s truly such a unique, special experience. Even after being there for eight straight seasons and seeing hundreds of shows, it gets me every single time.
So maybe I’ll go, or possibly I won’t — if not, I’ll be back in September for sure — but rather than agonize about the decision, I’m suddenly remembering all the things I love about Fashion Week. Seeing all my friends from around the country and around the world, and getting to see each designer’s styles the very first moment they hit the runways — there’s nothing quite like it, and I hope I never stop being grateful for the opportunity to be there.
(Even six months pregnant. Just maybe in flats this season!)