It's a quarter to eight in the morning on my day off and I'm sitting in a bus in a line of cars heading into the city.
It's a cold day. Everyone is bundled up and wearing something warm; not a t-shirt in sight.
It's my day off and I'm up early. I didn't even want the full day off though, merely the morning.
As I sit in a queue that barely moves, I curl my toes up in the thick cotton socks keeping the coldest parts of me warm.
I'm on my way to support Bowie at RAFW. He's invited me out every year since I've started working for him, but until now I've always had something else to do. Ironically, I would have had an interview to do but I've decided to make this a priority.
I've never attended a fashion show before. I hope I don't fall asleep.
"Just look at the hot model girls," my brain tells me. "Then you'll be fine."
The bus creeps forward some more and I wonder why they hold Rosemount Australian Fashion Week when it's cold.
And then I realise: nipples.
One of the not-so-well-guarded trade secrets that probably isn't a trade secret and is me making up an excuse for something in glamour based industries is the pre-conceived notion that if you've got hot young things – guys or girls – wearing your clothes and they look horny, your items will look better. Or at least it's what I think it means, anyway.
Hence the whole erect nipples thing. And on a cold day, you'd be saving money on ice.
Or it could be the view.
It doesn't matter how big of a name you've got at Fashion Week, if you were in a hall or a restaurant then you didn't have the great idea of setting up on the waterfront in front of the Sydney Opera House.
Brilliant idea, whoever it was. It just works so well.
It's a bit later and I'm seeing life imitating art in front of my eyes.
You know those random blonde bimbos you see in movies all the time? Well there are two right in front of me now.
Okay… so one is a brunette of sorts… they're still bimbos. Or irritating. They couldn't even count. I think the guy helping them get seated just gave up on trying to have them read the numbers on their chairs. Seven is not eight. Eight is not nine. Nine is not… oh, nevermind.
And the technologist in me wants to make a comment on the occasional blinged up Blackberry I'm seeing held together with a rubber band.
As in… expensive shiny gadget being held together by rubber band. Oh sweet mercy. 😛
The gold-plated mediocre Nokia, chrome organiser, the person massaging the hands of a lady who probably barely uses them…
While I know & understand the people I'm around right now, I think if I were to ever be in fashion (design or just in-fashion), I'd stay the same guy as I've always been and play with my Nintendo DS or write in my journal like I am now.
It's i.20 and the show hasn't begun. *sigh*
It's now 6.45 pm and I'm on my way home.
At the end of Bowie's show, I decided to go into work. Yes, it was my day off and no, I'm not addicted to work (even though I probably am) but short of some of the projects that I'm working on (yes Mum, I'm working on the music video…), I couldn't think of anything to do.
So I went into work and did that instead.
The clothes today were interesting. Flashy and subtle, simple and complicated. While I'm a tech reviewer, I'm not sure I'm all that qualified to talk about fashion.
I'll give it a stab anyway.
Yup. That's all I got.
More pics below…
Easily the hottest girl there.
The designer himself, Mr. Bowie Wong.
My friend Wendell T. working…
Followed by Wendell doing what every digital photographer does everyday… "chimping".
These images are all owned and therefore copyrighted to me, hence the nice watermark in most of the images. Buzz me if you want to use them.