Monday, 14 September 2009

Fashion's Night Out: Frivolities in a stick.

“This is perhaps what being Paris Hilton is all about”, I thought as the velvet rope cleared up and we finally had our first step then walk on the red carpet.

Madam Meldy

“It’s a cheap carpet”, my friend Meldy said as she continued to examine if the carpet was even of IKEA standard. I almost choke on my champagne. How she expected an expensive Moroccan carpet to be laid in almost half the entire block of Ortega & Gasset Street in Madrid is unfathomable but she was serious and her face was in disgust.

The next few minutes were full of chaos—the presenter of the event asking the same questions to his guests; paparazzi lined up for the money shots; besos and air kisses everywhere and champagne flowing like the Niagara. A giant screen was filled with Vogue collages and catwalk snippets, the music pumped up and the stars alighted from the heavens. The crowd went frenzy.

I too would have shrieked at a star sighting. Unfortunately, because my TV is programmed to Sky, I am totally clueless about what’s going on in the local channels or local celebrities for that matter. I recognized Paz Vega’s beautiful face as she meets the photographers and for me, it was sufficient for the night.

Having gotten all the photos that we felt we needed and our Vogue swags in hand, Meldy and I ditched our delicious cocktails and fashionably left the now super crowded tent. It was time for shopping. From 8pm till midnight, all the stores were opened and were giving away gifts and discounts. And yes, more rounds of cocktails.


First stop, The Armani store. A very long queue was waiting outside and Meldy thought it would be impossible to even touch the door. I told her our press pass is our lightsaber and the crowd’s golden passport is less powerful than what we have (Vogue gave away some “golden passports” to the general public as passes to each store. If not, one should present their real passport and Spanish ID to get in and shop).

True to my words, the sea of people parted as we wave our IDs to the stern security. Ah, fabulous! The gay and fashionable Moses in the middle of Madrid. There was a free make up session inside, cocktails and gorgeous shoes with a tag price of a Chanel. We left with a few catalogues (with free runway DVD) in hand.

Next stop: Missoni. Before going to the event, Meldy and I have already noted the different stores which were suppose to offer swags and discounts and Misonni was on the top of our list. They were selling a 100 piece limited edition bags at 30 Euros each and proceeds will go to a charitable foundation. Again, the line outside was endless. I walked right beside the security and waved my pass. Without a word, he let us in. Too late though. By the time we reached the counter, the bags have gone. It was alright because we saw the legendary Spanish singer Fangoria in her signature little black dress, blood red lipstick and overflowing breasts. She was with another rock star friend which looked like a Rick Owens model sporting a Gareth Pugh ensemble. I lost all my decency and succumbed to my fatal attraction to formidable gay icon. The Next thing I knew, I was smiling with her in front of the camera. I never smile in pictures, unless I am nervous.

So with all the embarrassment of being a fan, we skid our way to the next store, and the next and the next. I will not bore you people. Here are my best picks:

Best store design: Prada.
Their alien looking mannequins would make children cry and get nightmares but we definitely love the interiors of this store: Wall to wall three dimensional mirrors and gorgeous stairs that would make you feel like an million dollar baby. Too bad taking photographs was forbidden inside, I would have whored with my camera together with the frightful statues (not hyperbolizing. I got scared myself!)

Coolest cocktails/ Store party: Angel Schessler
“Have you got any identifica…?” ID flashed, got in.
Aside from the adamant id questioning and ushers sizing us up from head to foot, the Angel Schessler store was the coolest. It had an atmosphere of a real club. Young fashionistas hang out on the bar with their London dry blue gin mixes on hand. Amidst the deafening music, I managed to ask the designer some questions about his design. (Will post separately). And oh, don’t you dare compare his brand to Mango. Hahahaa. You got the idea.

Most fabulous window display: La Perla with their live models in their underwear posing for the street hawkers. One model was very game posing while I shout “Work it! Work it!” at her and gave me a big air kiss as we left. So cool it’s like in Amsterdam’s red light district but couture!

Most Fabulous collection: The Italian line Max Mara won our hearts. Their autumn collection is to die for. Power shouldered dresses in the most fabulous cuts and shapes. We certainly wished we had the Paris Hilton credit card to swipe our frustrations away. I did manage to interview Max Mara’s director in Spain though so that was okay and got served with the most fantastic cocktail with caviar! And oh, they had the most gorgeous bartender of the night too!

Friendliest store: Furla. “Anything that I could help you with honey, email me and I’ll send you high res photos.” Lol. Kidding aside, Furla’s new collection, inspired by Alice in Wonderland is just so amazing! They have this gorgeous umbrella with a bunny handle which almost converted me into a thief that night. Retailed at 100 Euros plus. Yes, for an umbrella.

Most behaved crowd (except for me): The smell of power intoxicated us…the smell of leather. Real leather. Louis Vuitton leather.

“No pictures please. No touching of the items please. Get your drinks and at least buy something!” (I was reading the manager’s thoughts).

Too late, I already snapped my pictures and molested a big LV chest-- The one that visits me in my dreams. Meldy on the other hand, was reprimanded for her intent to capture Kodak moments. lol.

And last but not the least, my favorite item of the night:

The Martin Margiela shoulder fur coat/wrap whatchamacallit. I can see me, myself and I in it.

So after 4 solid hours of non stop walking, drinking and window shopping, we decided to call it a night. Meldy swore she was so thirsty with all the action we had to stop at the nearest VIPS restaurant (that is actually the name of the place, not because were very important) to ordered some refreshments.

She peeped through what's inside the golden Vogue bag to see if there’s anything special.

“Nothing really, just the Lancôme mascara perhaps”, she lamented.

Then she gazed at me. A killer look.

“You lost a day’s work, paid for an expensive trip, slept less than 4 hours and what did you get? A lousy mascara?

“It’s not lousy honey, it’s Lancôme”.

My Vogue Swag

Besos!

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