Photo: Getty Images
My first blog for Fashion Week, in between breaks from planning the show. Thursday was the big day—the first day of Fashion Week and the first and only show this season I'm directly working for. Yigal Azrouel was on Friday, Feb. 2, at noon at Bumble & Bumble. (Here he is backstage with actress Emmanuelle Chriqui, his sister, Mirian Azrouel, and mother Reman Azrouel.) Not exactly the tents—but I like off-site fashion shows—it breaks up the monotony of the Japanese photogs and promotional hawkers at Bryant Park and gives a new canvas on which to witness the latest fashions.
Today was spent in a blur of circulating socialites coming in for dresses (day 4), messengering out outfits, calling/confirming editors, and last-minute pitching… As a freelance publicist, I'm in charge of celebrity relations. I've been making sure no one is wearing the same outfit and everyone is comfortable in their “borrowed” clothes. The bevy of beauties picked from clothes not yet in production—with some startlingly hip choices. Byrdie Bell looked gorgeous in a white bubble dress and blue oversized coat, and came in looking chicer than Kate Moss. Alexandre Lind Rose went more casual in a mini stone leather jacket and voluminous top. Fabiola Beracasa came in first and was easy to please—she picked a look right out from the look book and we gossiped about blogging for fashion week—although with a column for NewYorkMag online she might trump me in readership!
Emma Snowdon Jones seemed like she had been smoking meth—nah, I love her—and told Yigal straight up she was his muse—and vamped in the shortest dress Yigal made (it doesn't help that ESJ is 7 feet tall) while repeatedly asking for his number and strutting around the catwalk like the fab former factory girl she is! Oh, and my favorite male socialite, Luigi Tadini, got the scarf I wanted—but of course he had e-mailed me and told me that scarves are his “trademark.” (That's something I would say!)
Of course, all day Yigal has been doing looks for all the models—so every time I walk into the showroom I see half-naked hipster male mannequins vogueing for the Polaroids—making me ask why I've gone to Pret-a-Manger seven times today. I've also been running out of Xanax, which doesn't help when people keep sending me nasty things being written about me on SocialiteRank, or when I have to tell editors of, like, the Des Moines Weekly they are in the standing pen. And I still haven't done the most important thing of the day—picking out what I am gonna wear! Wish me luck! Love, Kristian Laliberte!
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