So, first fashion show in quite some time.
And believe it or not, I have another one in exactly one week from tomorrow in New York! Crazy. So I really must sleep and recharge for the coming day. Tomorrow I'm due to be ready for hair/ makeup at 10 AM
TEN AM!!!!!
Keep in mind that my day begins at 7...sometimes 6 am. On the rare occasion that I wake out of my sleep abnormally at 4 and my body seems to think that my day starts then.
I write this as a stream of conciousness. I have to wash my hair and do something with it that describes the "Free the Beat" theme. SO, I really have to go do that. One of my good friends said she wouldn't sleep from sheer excitement. I'm filled with giddy anticipation! Goodness! And the after party should be rockin'! Oh boy, good times !
And my dress for formals is a Jessica McClintock, so it's organically made and can only drycleaned in petroleum and not chemicals? WHAT? So I'd have to take a hike all the way to Roanoke to have it cleaned!!!!??
Goodness! I have to get beautiful!
Much love,
SF
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Sunday, April 4, 2010
NYC Sunday: The Subway
4:50, my phone alarm goes off. Like every morning, I sprung out of bed ready for the day's adventures.
As I shower, I contemplate the magnanimity of the task that lay ahead of me. I'd been monitoring my intake closely and working out religiously every morning for an entire week. I have been preparing for this moment my entire life. In fact, I was beginning to think I was too old to model in any capacity. Twenty is pretty much mid life/over the hill in this world I was entering. I suppose that's one of the benefits of looking like i just finished middle school.
Towel dry. Now time to do my hair. That's another 10-15 minutes tops. I looked in the mirror at the young woman staring back at me. I had definitely aged since I started wearing makeup. I raised my eyebrows, one then the other. Squinting, I thought, hmm lemme brush my teeth.
Mother and Tia are up and chatting around the kitchen table. In my spare time, now that I'm awake, I've decided to get my work done that's due in less than 24 hours.
"Mia, wake up. Do you want something to eat? Maybe that'll make you feel better?" I'd stayed up so late on Friday and Saturday and gotten up so early on Sunday, that nothing could keep me up.
Ok, as one of my guy friends said about me eating an entire chocolate chip cookie and 12 ounces of milk:
"You can really put down when you want to...".
Yes, yes. Indeed. But I couldn't even finish half of a grapefruit. Mother seemed to think it was nerves. I couldn't believe that I could be nervous. I had been preparing for this day my entire life. How could I be undermined by my NERVES! No. I did a few more mirror pep talks and I was ready.
"Mom, omigosh, I'm riding the subway"
She explains to the present company: "This is her first Subway experience" And at this point in the musical, I break out into song and begin to sing praises to the Subway until....
THE SMELL hit me. Years of urine, feces, takeout and dirt assaulted my nostrils the moment I hit the last stair of to the underground area.
"Uuugh. The SMELL! Oh my god, it smells SO BAD!"
"Mmmhmm. I told you," Mother said patently. In all fairness, she and Aaron had warned me. It was SO SMELLY! Even as I'm recalling this experience, the smell still hasn't left my memory. Moving on.
The process of buying my metrocard was an experience that merits an entire blog post for itself. The screen was so grimy and confusing. And I was the designated young mind to buy several tickets for everyone. Oh Fun.
Next Challenge: which train to get on. Well, one thing was certain, we had to go downtown. So, I do believe we took the 3 train. Unlike in Washington D.C., where there are screens to tell you when the next train is arriving, I had to wait the 5 minutes or so, nervously anticipating the train of deliverance.
"Mreeeeaaahhh!!!SsssssCREEEEEEECCCCHHHHH!" A metallic bullet rumbled through the entire chasm of the underground chamber and came to a swift and abrupt halt beside the platform we stood on
"Frwoomp! Pshat!" The doors opened and a pleasant voice over the intercom in a loud and indiscriminate tone gave directions as to our whereabouts and the train's destination. Oh crap. I nearly bowled over the bystanders in order to get on the train before the doors closed on me. Despite the fact that I made everyone leave 3 hours early to avoid mishaps, I could not afford another 5-10 minutes on the dank platform. Ugh.
Finding a seat was easy enough. I suppose 9 a.m. on a Sunday morning is a great time to travel: no one is going anywhere. Well, that was nothing compared to the 6 train.
So we get off the 3 at 42nd Street (God help me if I get this wrong, or risk facing the wrath of those well acclimated with the transit system) then we went downstairs through a series of confusing hallways and staircases to the platform to get the 6 train. Cool. I was met with a throng of traffic.
"Frwoomp! Pshat!" The doors opened, and there was nowhere to stand. The short man at 5 feet tall was reluctant to move in toward the center of the car. If thoughts could kill, this diminutive annoyance would have evaporated. So, I did what anyone would do in my situation. I pushed him further inward so I could get on. Out of context I really sound like a bitch. I have no excuses. In my defense, I had to get on. And i finally did. He looked back plaintively as if to say " I didn't know you had it in ya?" Yep. When I want something done, I will get it done.
Again, filth. I looked at mother. She wasn't having a good time either. I tried pressing against the ceiling with the center of my outstretched palms to maintain my balance. Didn't work. I stumbled forward and back as the train screeched to a halt. A few passengers filtered off, I could reach the pole now. I wrapped my fingers around it gingerly. My palm burned with a hot vexation. Disgusting. My skin was allergic to all the germs from the millions of hands that had touched this particular pole in the past 24 hours. A hand joined mine, right above my index finger. I moved my hand down. The hand moved with me. And again. And again. By the fourth time I had had enough of the nonsense.Frustrated and annoyed from the filth I already had to endure, I took decisive action.
"STOP TOUCHING ME!" The hand's owner looked over at my mother, she shrugged. The next stop was his conveniently.
And five or so stops later I screeched above the noise:"This is our stop, c'mon!" Again, fighting to get off. I'm tougher than I look. Ha. ha!
I ascended the stairs. The sunlight bathed majestic towers grazing the sky. Morning in New York was promising, but we were still too early. I determined to find Ginny's apartment before we could do anything else. Ten thirty a.m. We had some time to kill before noon. What to do? I suppose food of some sort will have to sate our rumbling tummies. Bagels might be a good idea?
Next installment: Fittings, Fruit and An Odd Bagel Place.
Till Soon, much luv,
<3 SF
As I shower, I contemplate the magnanimity of the task that lay ahead of me. I'd been monitoring my intake closely and working out religiously every morning for an entire week. I have been preparing for this moment my entire life. In fact, I was beginning to think I was too old to model in any capacity. Twenty is pretty much mid life/over the hill in this world I was entering. I suppose that's one of the benefits of looking like i just finished middle school.
Towel dry. Now time to do my hair. That's another 10-15 minutes tops. I looked in the mirror at the young woman staring back at me. I had definitely aged since I started wearing makeup. I raised my eyebrows, one then the other. Squinting, I thought, hmm lemme brush my teeth.
Mother and Tia are up and chatting around the kitchen table. In my spare time, now that I'm awake, I've decided to get my work done that's due in less than 24 hours.
"Mia, wake up. Do you want something to eat? Maybe that'll make you feel better?" I'd stayed up so late on Friday and Saturday and gotten up so early on Sunday, that nothing could keep me up.
Ok, as one of my guy friends said about me eating an entire chocolate chip cookie and 12 ounces of milk:
"You can really put down when you want to...".
Yes, yes. Indeed. But I couldn't even finish half of a grapefruit. Mother seemed to think it was nerves. I couldn't believe that I could be nervous. I had been preparing for this day my entire life. How could I be undermined by my NERVES! No. I did a few more mirror pep talks and I was ready.
"Mom, omigosh, I'm riding the subway"
She explains to the present company: "This is her first Subway experience" And at this point in the musical, I break out into song and begin to sing praises to the Subway until....
THE SMELL hit me. Years of urine, feces, takeout and dirt assaulted my nostrils the moment I hit the last stair of to the underground area.
"Uuugh. The SMELL! Oh my god, it smells SO BAD!"
"Mmmhmm. I told you," Mother said patently. In all fairness, she and Aaron had warned me. It was SO SMELLY! Even as I'm recalling this experience, the smell still hasn't left my memory. Moving on.
The process of buying my metrocard was an experience that merits an entire blog post for itself. The screen was so grimy and confusing. And I was the designated young mind to buy several tickets for everyone. Oh Fun.
Next Challenge: which train to get on. Well, one thing was certain, we had to go downtown. So, I do believe we took the 3 train. Unlike in Washington D.C., where there are screens to tell you when the next train is arriving, I had to wait the 5 minutes or so, nervously anticipating the train of deliverance.
"Mreeeeaaahhh!!!SsssssCREEEEEEECCCCHHHHH!" A metallic bullet rumbled through the entire chasm of the underground chamber and came to a swift and abrupt halt beside the platform we stood on
"Frwoomp! Pshat!" The doors opened and a pleasant voice over the intercom in a loud and indiscriminate tone gave directions as to our whereabouts and the train's destination. Oh crap. I nearly bowled over the bystanders in order to get on the train before the doors closed on me. Despite the fact that I made everyone leave 3 hours early to avoid mishaps, I could not afford another 5-10 minutes on the dank platform. Ugh.
Finding a seat was easy enough. I suppose 9 a.m. on a Sunday morning is a great time to travel: no one is going anywhere. Well, that was nothing compared to the 6 train.
So we get off the 3 at 42nd Street (God help me if I get this wrong, or risk facing the wrath of those well acclimated with the transit system) then we went downstairs through a series of confusing hallways and staircases to the platform to get the 6 train. Cool. I was met with a throng of traffic.
"Frwoomp! Pshat!" The doors opened, and there was nowhere to stand. The short man at 5 feet tall was reluctant to move in toward the center of the car. If thoughts could kill, this diminutive annoyance would have evaporated. So, I did what anyone would do in my situation. I pushed him further inward so I could get on. Out of context I really sound like a bitch. I have no excuses. In my defense, I had to get on. And i finally did. He looked back plaintively as if to say " I didn't know you had it in ya?" Yep. When I want something done, I will get it done.
Again, filth. I looked at mother. She wasn't having a good time either. I tried pressing against the ceiling with the center of my outstretched palms to maintain my balance. Didn't work. I stumbled forward and back as the train screeched to a halt. A few passengers filtered off, I could reach the pole now. I wrapped my fingers around it gingerly. My palm burned with a hot vexation. Disgusting. My skin was allergic to all the germs from the millions of hands that had touched this particular pole in the past 24 hours. A hand joined mine, right above my index finger. I moved my hand down. The hand moved with me. And again. And again. By the fourth time I had had enough of the nonsense.Frustrated and annoyed from the filth I already had to endure, I took decisive action.
"STOP TOUCHING ME!" The hand's owner looked over at my mother, she shrugged. The next stop was his conveniently.
And five or so stops later I screeched above the noise:"This is our stop, c'mon!" Again, fighting to get off. I'm tougher than I look. Ha. ha!
I ascended the stairs. The sunlight bathed majestic towers grazing the sky. Morning in New York was promising, but we were still too early. I determined to find Ginny's apartment before we could do anything else. Ten thirty a.m. We had some time to kill before noon. What to do? I suppose food of some sort will have to sate our rumbling tummies. Bagels might be a good idea?
Ah, yes. This is what I like! : )
Hmm, almost there! : )
Next installment: Fittings, Fruit and An Odd Bagel Place.
Till Soon, much luv,
<3 SF
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Style Sightings!
Things are heating up here below the M.D. Line! Good job girls! The weather shows promising results!
Much to write about: Fashion shows, fittings, designers galore! Stay posted, NYC part 2 and 3 are on the way! : )
Much love,
<3 SF
And there's a jacket to match. With acessories, always see a future for it. All these pieces were fron different seasons (pre-fall and late winter). White in winter, shocking, I know! : )
One of my sisters! Too cute! The top half is piped in green. Her shoes also mimic the colors found in her dress! Her outfit makes me happy! : )
Out and about. Like I said earlier about pink, yellow is also making a comeback. If you don't believe me, check out my first style sightings entry in Febs!
Much to write about: Fashion shows, fittings, designers galore! Stay posted, NYC part 2 and 3 are on the way! : )
Much love,
<3 SF
Chillaxin much? I think so! : )
Brilliantly ballancing brights! Awesome!
And there's a jacket to match. With acessories, always see a future for it. All these pieces were fron different seasons (pre-fall and late winter). White in winter, shocking, I know! : )
Black, white and pink are making a comeback. This outfit was completed with a pink headband. Never be afraid to use a bright as an accent piece!
Gold UUGs, need them STAT! : )
One of my sisters! Too cute! The top half is piped in green. Her shoes also mimic the colors found in her dress! Her outfit makes me happy! : )
Out and about. Like I said earlier about pink, yellow is also making a comeback. If you don't believe me, check out my first style sightings entry in Febs!
Friday, March 26, 2010
First Fashion Show
Everyone has a start somewhere. For me it was a Nordstrom's fashion show about sixteen years ago. I was only four.
Nordstrom's originally was known for its shoes and when I was young I would run through a new pair of shoes like there was no tomorrow, even before I had begun walking. Strange, I know. So mother was always in there hunting down a new pair of shoes while my dad was off at work and my brother was in kindergarten. Needless to say, the clerks knew my brother and I, most especially me, by name and had idea of what to pick out for my mother to buy by the time she walked in the store.
"Your daughter's so cute. We have a fashion show coming up, you should sign her up! You can pick out an outfit and wear it in the show!" My mother turned to me slowly. She knew I understood the entire conversation. I needn't say a word, my beaming eyes already conveyed my answer. Mother never wanted to thrust me into "the industry" prematurely, which explains why I was in my first pageant as a college freshman. My small beady eyes, barely reaching the top of the sales counter looked at the sales representative, then we both turned to my mother.
"Ok Mia, you understand you model the clothes on a runway and it's in front of a large crowd? Okay?" I was a cynical little one, and I completely knew what was up. Don't underestimate children, we understand everything.
The day of the fashion show arrives and my entire family is there. Dad was equipped with a camera and my brother from what I remember was sufficiently annoyed. Mother had brushed and braided and readied my hair, per usual. We walked into the store as the fashion show carried on. Children's fashions were not first, so I could show up fashionably late.
Ok, I'm working my way to the punch line....
Mother reminds me: "See how that girl reaches the end of the runway and turns around and comes back? See how she does it? Do that and you'll be fine" Ok Mom, whatever.
A woman with a clip board ushered me backstage. The runway sprawled before me. I was ready.
"It's your turn, go on out there."
"Okay" I hit my mark, then I ran to the end of the runway, and then I jumped off. Yes, you read right, I jumped off. So I walked backstage again.
"Walk to the end, and come back"
"Okay" I said then I ran, even faster this time, to the end
The front row leaned back and said 'whoa'. Mostly from shock, partly from sheer amusement. Some laughed. I was enjoying this just as much, or more than they did. Ha, ha!
"Ok Mia, we'll give you one more time, but this time you can't jump off the edge this time. Okay?" Mother was being incredibly patient.
So, I had yet another chance. What did I do? You got it, I jumed off the stage another 3 times. So much for my modeling career. It would be years before I would ever be in another fashion show. Luckily I've got two coming up in April. Should be amazing!
Until soon your very busy and tired,
<3 SF
Nordstrom's originally was known for its shoes and when I was young I would run through a new pair of shoes like there was no tomorrow, even before I had begun walking. Strange, I know. So mother was always in there hunting down a new pair of shoes while my dad was off at work and my brother was in kindergarten. Needless to say, the clerks knew my brother and I, most especially me, by name and had idea of what to pick out for my mother to buy by the time she walked in the store.
"Your daughter's so cute. We have a fashion show coming up, you should sign her up! You can pick out an outfit and wear it in the show!" My mother turned to me slowly. She knew I understood the entire conversation. I needn't say a word, my beaming eyes already conveyed my answer. Mother never wanted to thrust me into "the industry" prematurely, which explains why I was in my first pageant as a college freshman. My small beady eyes, barely reaching the top of the sales counter looked at the sales representative, then we both turned to my mother.
"Ok Mia, you understand you model the clothes on a runway and it's in front of a large crowd? Okay?" I was a cynical little one, and I completely knew what was up. Don't underestimate children, we understand everything.
The day of the fashion show arrives and my entire family is there. Dad was equipped with a camera and my brother from what I remember was sufficiently annoyed. Mother had brushed and braided and readied my hair, per usual. We walked into the store as the fashion show carried on. Children's fashions were not first, so I could show up fashionably late.
Ok, I'm working my way to the punch line....
Mother reminds me: "See how that girl reaches the end of the runway and turns around and comes back? See how she does it? Do that and you'll be fine" Ok Mom, whatever.
A woman with a clip board ushered me backstage. The runway sprawled before me. I was ready.
"It's your turn, go on out there."
"Okay" I hit my mark, then I ran to the end of the runway, and then I jumped off. Yes, you read right, I jumped off. So I walked backstage again.
"Walk to the end, and come back"
"Okay" I said then I ran, even faster this time, to the end
and jumped off!
The front row leaned back and said 'whoa'. Mostly from shock, partly from sheer amusement. Some laughed. I was enjoying this just as much, or more than they did. Ha, ha!
"Ok Mia, we'll give you one more time, but this time you can't jump off the edge this time. Okay?" Mother was being incredibly patient.
So, I had yet another chance. What did I do? You got it, I jumed off the stage another 3 times. So much for my modeling career. It would be years before I would ever be in another fashion show. Luckily I've got two coming up in April. Should be amazing!
Until soon your very busy and tired,
<3 SF
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
NYC: Saturday Evening
I drove up to NYC this weekend, here's part one that I wrote that weekend:
Evening, Saturday. I'm exhausted. After a four hour drive, we're in Brooklyn.
*Note, the four hour drive up was preceeded by my four hour ride on Homeride from Virginia to Maryland. I had only figured out at 12 noon that my home bound bus was to leave at 2:30, my last class ended at 1:10, and I hadn't packed yet.
The cashier ringing me up informed me that 2:30 p.m. was the only Homeride that was leaving. I must have looked shocked, normally that's a 4:30 option.
"Does that work for you?" She asked.
"It has to work" (Obviously!) Now I'm here.
So here I am in Brooklyn after consuming the most delicious Chinese food I've had in quite some time. You might say: "SF get a life. Chinese food is nothing to get excited about", well think again mister, this food was well seasoned and...
My aunt knew exactly what to order for me. It was an excellent mix of tofu and vegetables stir fried in some sort of chili sauce accompanied by white rice. About that rice, why is it so incredibly necessary to fill over 45% of the container with WHITE RICE? I haven't had white rice in quite some time. Honestly, it's a waste of calories to spend on bland, tasteless WHITE RICE. And to think I once craved it? Yikes!
"Just tell me when you're done? Aright?" Tia told me. I guess her title needs some explanation. In my culture, your aunt or any female figure of authority familiar to your family is called "Tia" (the Spanish for "Aunt") as a sign of respect.
"Muaumahumm. Okah." I nodded and covered my mouth as I frantically tried to get to my inbox on my phone to pull up the email with Ginny's physical address.
Crap. I get updates from the Washington Post in my inbox all the time and the email I needed was backlogged so far back in my inbox (from only a week ago) that I couldn't pull it up on my phone. I proceeded to try and hack into an unsecured wireless network on my laptop. All 20 or more of them were password protected. I texted my brother who may or may not be in MCAT prep class at this point. I didn't risk calling, even in my desperate state.
"You find it yet? Huh?" Tia ventured to ask again. I had finished eating and I had a wild look in my eye. I suppose she could sense trouble. Even though I had already told my family that one of my best friends, a transportation aficionado, had assured me that my trip from Brooklyn to the Upper East Side would require us to ride the 6 train at some point, they still wanted to make sure.
8:30 (240): "You sent me a text"
(240): "Yes, I really need your help, are you near a computer?" My brother would help me. I'm very blessed to have a pretty cool brother.
Good job, it was the 6 train. I smiled broadly at the realization that my friend was right. Suffice it to say that he's not even form New York and really knows what's up. Now mother will talk about it for weeks.
Well, my ride up constituted of taking pictures, so now I have to get some work done. And beauty rest has to happen sometime before tomorrow...
Until soon much love,
<3 SF
P.S. I was incredibly grateful that my food didn't show the following day! On to a fitting!
Evening, Saturday. I'm exhausted. After a four hour drive, we're in Brooklyn.
*Note, the four hour drive up was preceeded by my four hour ride on Homeride from Virginia to Maryland. I had only figured out at 12 noon that my home bound bus was to leave at 2:30, my last class ended at 1:10, and I hadn't packed yet.
The cashier ringing me up informed me that 2:30 p.m. was the only Homeride that was leaving. I must have looked shocked, normally that's a 4:30 option.
"Does that work for you?" She asked.
"It has to work" (Obviously!) Now I'm here.
So here I am in Brooklyn after consuming the most delicious Chinese food I've had in quite some time. You might say: "SF get a life. Chinese food is nothing to get excited about", well think again mister, this food was well seasoned and...
SO INCREDIBLY TASTY!
My aunt knew exactly what to order for me. It was an excellent mix of tofu and vegetables stir fried in some sort of chili sauce accompanied by white rice. About that rice, why is it so incredibly necessary to fill over 45% of the container with WHITE RICE? I haven't had white rice in quite some time. Honestly, it's a waste of calories to spend on bland, tasteless WHITE RICE. And to think I once craved it? Yikes!
"Where are we headed, what's the physical address?" I looked up for two seconds from my meal. I'd gone back for seconds and I must have looked really hungry.
"Just tell me when you're done? Aright?" Tia told me. I guess her title needs some explanation. In my culture, your aunt or any female figure of authority familiar to your family is called "Tia" (the Spanish for "Aunt") as a sign of respect.
"Muaumahumm. Okah." I nodded and covered my mouth as I frantically tried to get to my inbox on my phone to pull up the email with Ginny's physical address.
Crap. I get updates from the Washington Post in my inbox all the time and the email I needed was backlogged so far back in my inbox (from only a week ago) that I couldn't pull it up on my phone. I proceeded to try and hack into an unsecured wireless network on my laptop. All 20 or more of them were password protected. I texted my brother who may or may not be in MCAT prep class at this point. I didn't risk calling, even in my desperate state.
"You find it yet? Huh?" Tia ventured to ask again. I had finished eating and I had a wild look in my eye. I suppose she could sense trouble. Even though I had already told my family that one of my best friends, a transportation aficionado, had assured me that my trip from Brooklyn to the Upper East Side would require us to ride the 6 train at some point, they still wanted to make sure.
8:30 (240): "You sent me a text"
(240): "Yes, I really need your help, are you near a computer?" My brother would help me. I'm very blessed to have a pretty cool brother.
Good job, it was the 6 train. I smiled broadly at the realization that my friend was right. Suffice it to say that he's not even form New York and really knows what's up. Now mother will talk about it for weeks.
Manhattan, I'll be there on Sunday! Too foggy for a decent picture!
Verrazano Bridge, here we come! : )
Until soon much love,
<3 SF
P.S. I was incredibly grateful that my food didn't show the following day! On to a fitting!
Monday, March 22, 2010
Style Sightings!
So your favorite fashionista has slacked up a bit, I was in New York City for a fitting! Coolness! I've neglected to post the Style Sightings from last week!What did you do without my style sightings? Twiddle your thumbs? Yep. Lol !: )
Until soon, a very exhausted,
<3 SF
Most def mad for plaid!
Until soon, a very exhausted,
<3 SF
Most def mad for plaid!
Could she get any cooler? Very much a complete outfit. Her plaid bag pulls the entire look together. Accessories are key, check out those aviators! : )
Electric blue seems to be a favorite! This look was accompanied with patent-leather stilettos to complement the jewel cut buttons. To top it all off, a bow headband finised the look!
Where has this girl been hiding????
This is the best outfit I've seen in my time as SF here in Virginia!!!! Excellent! Excellent!
BLING! Over-sized purses and sequins are my weak spot! : P
Thursday, March 18, 2010
SML, A Destination, Not a Shirt Size Part 1
Take a left at the crooked tree and then go over the hill and down the unpaved road and you might see your destination on your right. Getting to Smith Mountain Lake (SML) from Blacksburg was nothing short of a small adventure in itself. Our car, piloted by my fearless mother, took a few wrong turns until it happened upon a condo- resort complex shored on a sparkling mirror of resplendent majesty bathed by the Saturday sun's glow, Smith Mountain Lake was beautiful. I was there for a bridal show, my second one in less than a week. Networking ensued and I was invited by Miss Angela Courser of Corsair Designs to the day's festivities and fashion show.
Hosted in a small intimate setting with far fewer vendors than the last show I had attended, I was immediately captivated by the explosion of color and sparkle. My heart raced and I was swept up in the excitement. Before me was an excellent place setting for four on a fully and lavishly decorated round table. Is over-stimulation permissible in this case? May I? Thank you!
* I'll have the pictures in "Part 2" Stay posted!
Vaughn Designs. The featured designer of the show who's line is a quirky twist on the aisle walking attire that puts you in the front seat as the co- designer and wearer.
This is by far, my favorite look from her line! It's edgy and fresh! : )
Drop- waist, champagne, and strapless. I think I'm sold! : )
Next to his table was Bare Escentuals makeup line. I had to admit that the only impression I had of the line was late night glances at the TV while simultaneously finishing a paper (we all know that moment when writing becomes a tangent). I give the representative credit for earmarking my perfect shade of lip gloss in a matter of seconds, a neutral tone or a subtle berry shade. My face paired with my personality only allows me to wear certain shades of makeup on my face or colors of clothing on my person successfully. One of my good friends and I were having lunch the other day when he realized that I never wear clothing that isn't black and white.
Hosted in a small intimate setting with far fewer vendors than the last show I had attended, I was immediately captivated by the explosion of color and sparkle. My heart raced and I was swept up in the excitement. Before me was an excellent place setting for four on a fully and lavishly decorated round table. Is over-stimulation permissible in this case? May I? Thank you!
* I'll have the pictures in "Part 2" Stay posted!
Vaughn Designs. The featured designer of the show who's line is a quirky twist on the aisle walking attire that puts you in the front seat as the co- designer and wearer.
This is by far, my favorite look from her line! It's edgy and fresh! : )
Drop- waist, champagne, and strapless. I think I'm sold! : )
I had an opportunity to speak with the designer who graciously provided the pictures you see above. I'd even been invited to the bridal show the following week, however scheduling and the impending school week limited my chances of attending. Ah school!
With the joys of attending bridal shows, and if you haven't been to one you should, is primarily the free food and the NETWORKING. Ok, mostly the beautiful shiny things and lovely people...and free food. One of the limousine fleet owners addressed my purpose there by starting out with the age old question
"Getting married huh?" I've gotten better at this, so I immediately cut to the chase:
"Actually I'm covering the designer for my fashion blog", and with much skepticism and amusement he replied,
"A blogger huh? Ok, so you're not just here for the free food?"A wry smile crossed his face, he had me in a corner, metaphorically.
"Yes, I'm here for the food too!"We shared a laugh and I'm sure if I ever need to be transported in a limo, or Rolls Royce, I know who to ask.
Next to his table was Bare Escentuals makeup line. I had to admit that the only impression I had of the line was late night glances at the TV while simultaneously finishing a paper (we all know that moment when writing becomes a tangent). I give the representative credit for earmarking my perfect shade of lip gloss in a matter of seconds, a neutral tone or a subtle berry shade. My face paired with my personality only allows me to wear certain shades of makeup on my face or colors of clothing on my person successfully. One of my good friends and I were having lunch the other day when he realized that I never wear clothing that isn't black and white.
"And grey." I added, "or maybe a hint of color?" Why is this? Let's explore this in another posting.
On my way out the door one of the photographers spots me and exclaimed: "I haven't seen you here at the expo all day, where have you been?" This was a new approach, I fished for a witty comeback. Nothing. So I smiled and nodded. Somehow in our conversation I mentioned that I'm a fashion blogger, more so a Fashionista. Good thing I had my friend Miss Angela Courser to correct me. : )
"Well you need my contact info! Here, lemme borrow your pen and sticky notes"On the note was an offer to have a complimentary photo shoot and DVD. If there was ever a point where I felt like a celebrity, this was one of the many times I did.
By the close of the day I had a small shopping bag filled with ads, business cards and promises to keep in touch. On my ride home, I wondered if I would have the same career path as the journalist out of 27 Dresses: always covering a wedding but never having one. I think I have some time to figure it all out. : )
Until soon much love,
<3 SF
For more information about Miss Vaughn's line, contact: designladi@gmail.com
By the close of the day I had a small shopping bag filled with ads, business cards and promises to keep in touch. On my ride home, I wondered if I would have the same career path as the journalist out of 27 Dresses: always covering a wedding but never having one. I think I have some time to figure it all out. : )
Until soon much love,
<3 SF
For more information about Miss Vaughn's line, contact: designladi@gmail.com
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)