"They're running an hour and a half late," said a woman seated in the front row of the nearly empty Miami Beach International Fashion Week. "It's Miami."
That's lay of the land: Things are expected to run on Cuban time. And when the show finally starts, close to two hours behind schedule, the "fashion" consists of rhinestone-studded tank tops that read "I Love Fashion" paired with jean skirts.
Here's the scene: Well, there isn't really much of a scene. The
audience is maybe one-eighth full at the Miami Beach Convention Center,
and the show was scheduled to start a whole movie's length ago.
TV founder Michel Adam. If you didn't know that going in, it became
obvious as soon as the lights went down, the music went up, and the first
poorly cat-eyed model walked down the aisle in the aforementioned tank
tops.
We could've sworn Will Ferrell's character in Zoolander
was the DJ. A voice spoke over the umpta-umpta of the
throbbing, generic techno beat: "I love fashion." Yeah, we get it. But what was really
perplexing about the event was that there was no fashion. It was kitten heels and cotton dresses.
Our favorite part: This girl's hair, which was pretty rad and something nice to look at. (And maybe Hunger Games-inspired?)
gallons of Haterade instead of the typical "black coffee
sipped through a straw" fashion diet, we should admit that earlier in the day, we had a scheduling
issue that left us with bloody blistered feet and a half-empty tank of
gas. It
isn't Fashion Week's fault that this weekend happened to be a
veritable incarnation of hell on Washington Avenue, with traffic like a
bumper-to-bumper Mario Kart game with Ultra faeries and SB2012ers jumping in
the way.
But after all that trouble, to have the highlight of our night be the back of this girl's head? Unacceptable. (Really, though, that girl's hair looks great, right?)
The show closed with the Mugatu song blasting, "Give me a little passion. Give me a little fashion." Hey, they said it, not us.
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