Tears on the Runway

ex·pec·ta·tion

ˌekspekˈtāSH(ə)n/
 a strong belief that something will happen or be the case in the future.
“reality had not lived up to expectations”

Upon walking in to a clean and chic industrial setting which boasted a fence background, two lanes of clear lattice chairs, and white walls, I was checked in politely and quickly. I swiftly took my seat. Unfortunately this was the point things started to deteriorate.

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The show, to say the least, was late… so late that us timely folks were left seated for more than an hour and a half. After two very awkward silences and false starts, the show did begin. Regrettably the clothes could hardly take center stage. Most of the models in this show looked uncomfortable. They walked at a range of paces from “catching a bus in the rain” to “tourist in a mall.” Not to mention a model poured into a latex dress with such little room to walk that I could have gone home and back in the amount of time it took her to tip toe down the runway.

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The absolute only saving grace to this train wreck was Travis Cal. The menswear sets in high definition prints were fabulous, as well as a studded denim vest paired with one of them. There was also a gorgeous cocktail dress with a textured skirt and a sexy dose of side boob additionally two hot yellow numbers that set fire to the runway.  Alas, one had it’s fire put out by the tears of the model wearing it. Yes it was that kind of night. I wish I could even say I enjoyed my drink, but it was hypnotic… Yes you read that correctly. The only excuse I can give you for drinking it was the boredom derived from the 90 minute wait. If that wasn’t enough, I had to give up my colleagues’ seat to a catty lady who went and complained that I was holding seats unjustly.  Granted, they were both standing in close proximity when she asked me if they were taken. Three people. Three seats. It’s pretty straight forward.

In conclusion, I feel for the designers. The point of a fashion show is for the clothes to take center stage, and due to the terrible production, they could do anything but that.

Written By: Omar Lisandro

Photography: Dick Clarke