What Tommy Taught Me: Fashion Week Through The Eyes Of A First Timer

4. Taking a good photo at a fashion show is tough. Granted, Justin and I didn’t have as good a position (or tools at our disposal, which in our cases were our phones) as the actual photographers there, but still: not easy. Justin had a bit more luck than I did — you can see what he got here and here — whereas both my attempts to get a shot ended in complete failure and immediate deletion of the photos.

Adding insult to injury, immediately upon deletion, my phone reverted back to a picture of the last thing I successfully took a photo of — a bag of Snyder’s bacon cheddar pretzel pieces, which I took to send to my roommate to prove they existed. (The buffalo wing ones are still better, for the record.)

Now, as for the show itself. The run of show (which, on the off chance you’re as unfamiliar with fashion shows as I am, is essentially a pamphlet guide to the theme of the show and to what each model will wear) listed the theme of the night as “Town and Country,” which was “inspired by the preppy sporting life.” And while, again, I’m about the furthest thing from an expert the world can produce on this, the selections seemed to live up to that title and description — even if that means that if you saw a person in real life wearing some of these items, you’d be filled with a seething resentment at their level of wealth and privilege.

For what it’s worth, the “burgundy” and “forest” colors stood out most to me. From what I could tell, Justin also seemed to like these colors, so, fashion prodigy in the making here, clearly. And as for the models themselves — well, they were sufficiently model-ish: i.e. sufficiently intimidating, expressionless, and generally cooler and more fashionable than you or anyone else could hope to be.

Additionally, for one chunk of the show’s second half, the leitmotif* was houndstooth. You might see that and think, “Oh, you’re a sports person; perhaps the houndstooth reminded you of the famed hat worn by legendary college football coach Bear Bryant.” To which I say: SHUT UP, JERKS. I AM A MAN OF MANY INTERESTS AND REFUSE TO BE PIGEONHOLED AS THE “SPORTS GUY.” (Also, yes. Bear Bryant was all I could think about. You win.)

Then, after approximately 27 fashion-filled seconds, the show was over, and Tommy Hilfiger himself came out and soaked in some applause while “All You Need is Love” played in the background. (The Beatles selection was fitting, since one person in attendance was dressed as if he’d just wandered off the Sgt. Pepper cover. I’m pretty sure he got his picture taken on his way out.) And when the show’s over, it’s over — you take what you brought with you and get right on out of there.

Justin and I went our separate ways, and if all I could verbalize to him was that I kinda liked the show, I had the unmistakable feeling that going in the first place was the right move, and that if any of you who haven’t been to one of these shows gets the chance, you should do it. Later, when I got on the subway, fresh off trying to learn how the fashion world works, I cracked The Power Broker open and tried to learn how political power works. Of course, you’re not much more likely to learn that from one book than you are to learn about the fashion world in one show… but it can’t hurt to try.

*Pretentiousness bucket list: use “leitmotif” in a post, italicize it. CHECK.

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