LOL at Toronto Fashion Week, Part 1: Front row warfare, IMG and Joffrey Baratheon, Bustle Boy
World MasterCard Fashion Week is now well underway in the city of Toronto, and wouldn’t you know that I’ve already got a few lulzy tales to tale? And I shall…
But first, I’d like to say that this is shaping up to be one of the most carefree, enjoyable Toronto fashion weeks I’ve covered during the 3 years I’ve lived here (two weeks per year and I missed the last one to be in Texas so 5 weeks in total. FASHEMATICS.)
Perhaps that’s because I’m now working 20 steps away the tents and can run over on my breaks without a coat to drag around, or maybe it’s the fact that I’m covering fashion week for my own blog this season as opposed to another outlet / “outlet,” or maybe I’m just getting more comfortable in situations like this and can see the humour in everything that goes on more clearly…
As the 12 of you who live in this city and care about fashion already know, World MasterCard Fashion Week in Toronto was recently purchased and taken over by IMG — they of London, New York and Milan’s already molto popularo fashion weeks (please excuse the fauxtalian.)
It’s almost annoying how smoothly things are running for somebody who… is kind of late for things sometimes. *cough*
Props to IMG though, and Carolyn Quinn for finally solving whatever the heck it took to solve the problem of getting shows to start on time.
Here are a few of the things that went down over the past two days, as told through my Instagram snaps and Twitpics. I’ll be uploading a full gallery filled with the photos I’ve been taking with that sweet little pink NX1000 Samsung sent me later.
One of my favourite things gleaned at the tents Monday night was found within a copy of the Globe Style paper one of the fashion week volunteers handed me on my way out of the venue. An article, written by Sara Hampson called When did Gen Y become Gen Y-Can’t-We-Take-You-Seriously?
A cathartic read. I don’t know what it makes me feel, but it does. If anything, it makes me even more terrified of growing older.