A New York Fashion Week Thank You...

DAHLINGS -

Most of my staff may be total incompetents, but the people "behind the scenes" at Mercedes Benz Fashion Week have made many things infinitely more tolerable to your faithful correspondent. And so before I go on to review more shows or try to write something philosophical about The State Of Fashion today, I wish to thank those, shall we say, little people who grease the wheels of the mighty engine of MCFW.

1) The IMG press office. Despite being continuously deluged and frantic in their small outdoor cubicle, they consented to my bringing an assistant, were always polite and patient with my many requests, and remained unflappable in the face of hysterical reporters and photographers. And somehow found the time to send out media alerts every day. I can barely keep up with this blog-thing, heaven knows how they do it.

2) Citadel, the security staff. These handsome gentlemen (and a few women) turned out to be very pleasant company while one waited in the endless lines. Some of the men have to stand for more than 12 hours a day. If I had to do that and deal with the continual parade of lunatics who attend Fashion Week, I would probably bring a machete in my purse. Or Bucky, who could inflict just as much damage with his razor-sharp teeth. Plus, they are quite easy on the eyes.

3) McCafe. Ordinarily I would not set my high-heeled foot in a McDonald's. Too many of the great unwashed, you know. However, their coffee bar was a lifesaver! Especially when I asked for an iced mocha with an expresso shot and whipped cream! Those caffeine and sugar bombs kept me going for hours on end.

4) The Lu Biscuit girls. These beautiful young girls, mostly aspiring actresses, were always amusing to converse with. Intentionally, I mean. Highly observant and intelligent, and they gave one chocolate biscuits! What more could one ask?

5) Fern Mallis and Lynn Yaeger, for reasons they will understand.




















Fern Mallis

6) The technical crew, who kept the tents from collapsing on all of us, or the floors from collapsing underneath us. (Imagine the huge piles of fashionistas screaming "Don't you know who I am?" at the rescue crews.) Plus, they were good looking men, and you know how I feel about that.















(Hubba hubba)

7) The Information Desk Staff. Not only did they give me scads of reading material, they tried to help me when:

Un Grand Merci Not You To:

The French documentary crew who had me rush to Bryant Park at noon for an interview, only to stand moi up! Now you know why so many people do not like the French. And the phone number they gave me was in France! For almost an hour, the staff at the IMG Information Desk tried to help me dial the number, to no avail. Je crache sur les producteurs de documentaires français de films.

Off to the tents - more later, dahlings!

Ciao,
Elisa and Bucky the Still Sulking Wonderdog

The Manhattan Vintage Show vs. The Recession

Dahlings –

I am still an exhausted shell of a woman after the Manhattan Vintage Show. Who knew that work could be so much…well, work??

Hours on my feet being my fabulous self, turning on my thousand-watt smile to the eager buyers, keeping my breasts inside my dress (an ill-advised wardrobe choice on Friday made that a bit of an ongoing problem; rest assured that Saturday I wore a 1939 peplum print dress with an uncharacteristically high neckline!). In any event I did not wear my usual high heels but instead opted for ballet flats. Not so flattering but practical.

The Matinee New York booth swarmed with the common and not so common folk. An Italian designer bought a number of dresses from my personal collection. Many customers were astounded to find that plus-size vintage women’s’ clothing even existed! As the saying goes, I made a killing.

One theme throughout the show was that there was far less business than in past shows. One seller told me he had actually made 90% less than at the previous show! I am firmly convinced it is the recession; the first things to go are the luxurious necessities. That is so foolish; I’d much rather have Balenciaga than a working gas stove.

I have observed earlier in this blog-thing that at the Manhattan Vintage Show, although many of the dealers are large-sized women, they do not wear vintage clothing, nor do they sell it. This year there was another booth devoted to plus-size vintage. Gracious soul that I am, I am firmly of the mind that a rising tide lifts all boats.

My partner, Sheri Lane, knows many, many people in the film industry, and they were delighted to find a source for plus-size vintage. I also saw my dear friends Lynn Yaeger, who wore what to all intents and purposes was a grey jacket over an open upside-down umbrella; Hamish Bowles, resplendent in green suit and bow tie; and I bonded with Tziporah Salamon, the “star” of the Manhattan Show, who had two breathtaking exhibits of her personal wardrobe.



Ms. Salamon dressed in clothes that defy description; suffice to say the words “stylish” and “unique” fall far short. You can visit her website at http://www.tziporahsalamon.com/. Her male assistant also wore wonderful things; I never did find out his name, but I shall never forget his cinnabar purse.

Several marvelous fellow sellers were at the show, including the ever-delightful Miss Kitty of The Cats Pajamas Vintage and Barbara Kennedy and her handsome husband.

Now I must lie down. Even though it’s been several days, I am still wrung out, barely able to lift a croissant to my plump red lips.

Before I sign off, many thanks to Matinee New York, Lola, Stephanie Schroeder (the best publicist a woman could want), Patricia, Lynn, Vivienne of Born Too Late Vintage (http://www.borntoolatevintage.com/) who provided some lovely things, and to David Ornstein, organizer of the show. I don't usually thank people, but as Ms. Salamon would say, "It's a mitzvah."

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog