A boy who has big dreams of entering the fashion industry as a stylist is on his way to his very first big fashion show. A big fashion show at New York Fashion Week. He has flown all the way from Sydney, Australia to NYFW because he was under the impression that he got an invitation from an emerging designer.He wasn’t going to turn this invitation down. This was his chance. A chance to open big doors. He has been waiting awhile for this day. Getting off the subway he hurries a little so he isn’t too late. He is eager. Keen.
He arrives at where the show will be held. He is dressed to the nines. Anorak, white collared shirt with a leather bowtie, black jeggings and studded combat boots. He has never felt so fierce in his life ever. The excitement and the anticipation he cannot hold in as he blurts his name to the PR girl in charge of the list.
They cannot find his name. He repeats it again slowly. Again they say “no. Im sorry I can’t find it on the list”. He produces the invite and the email. They look at it. Then they tell him to stand and wait, they might be able to get him a ‘standing’ position. He waits for half-an-hour as other fashionistas present their invites and get let in. They give him once over looks and some snigger. The confidence he was wearing half-an-hour ago is faded and fashion vulture-eaten.
Dejected, he realises that they won’t even give him a standing position. So he leaves and bites his lip. The big dream of seeing the shows falls out of his Longchamp bag and falls into the gutter.
THIS WAS HOW I WAS TREATED BY THE YIGAL AZROUEL PR COMPANY.