Tomorrow the whole city becomes a runway and I haven't slept a minute. Too wired to close my eyes, too comfortable to put anything on. Want to know what the night before looks like, love?
Tomorrow the whole city becomes a runway and I haven't slept a minute. Too wired to close my eyes, too comfortable to put anything on. Want to know what the night before looks like, love?
Pre-shows start tomorrow and the schedule's taped to my mirror right next to my reflection — Ralph Lauren's off-calendar, Coach turns eighty-five, and my robe is not cooperating. You want to see what I'm wearing to the first show, love?
Made it to New York and the only thing unpacked so far is me. Two days until everything starts and I'm not sharing this view with just anyone — want to come up, love?
Three days out and I've cut my packing list down to one look I actually trust — and it doesn't leave much to the imagination. Some pieces don't need anything underneath, and I'm not sorry about it. Want to see what survives the trip, love?
Everyone at that party wanted my attention and I gave them about two hours of it — now it's just me, this dress coming off, and four days until Fashion Week. Try keeping up with that, love.
Six days out and I'm stress-testing a front-row look that might be too much even for me. Some pieces don't ask if you're ready — they just dare you. Think I can pull it off, love?
One week until NYFW and my coverage plan for Madison's Moodboard is done — every show mapped, every look pre-planned, and I already know who's going to disappoint. Want my predictions, sweetie?
The CFDA schedule just dropped and I've already got every show color-coded — eight days out and I'm not leaving this bed until my calendar's perfect. You want my front-row predictions, love?
First night back in the house and the only things I've unpacked are my candle and my playlist. Everything else can wait — I'm still deciding what version of this room gets to exist this year. Want a look, love?
Every garment bag is empty and every outfit is on the floor because apparently none of them felt right for the first Monday back. The only thing that fit was nothing at all. Jealous, love?