...or any other fashion week for that matter.
Fashion week used to be my favorite time of year. Planning my outfits was my preseason training, posing for street style was the rough grind of the match, watching runway shows and partying at after parties was the sweet taste of victory as I posed with my medal.
Fashion has changed though, and as a result, so has fashion week. Fashion brands are now rewarded more for their digital and social attention than the creativity of design. By default, I've lost interest.
At 22, keeping up with the Joneses was the most important thing on the planet, but these days I'd rather sit out of it entirely. I don't want to walk back and forth for street style photographers or measure my own success by the number of blurry runway photos I have in my Instagram story.
I can interact with fashion and talk about trends without trying to fight for a seat at the marble round table with golden details hand-crafted by pre-anti-Semitic Galliano and matching seats by Restoration Hardware X Balmain. I've not given up on the fashion world, but I don't need to fit in to create something special.
My biggest concern is to "do me", inspire others, create a community of others stumbling through this beauty called life, and be happy. Measuring my success on how many shots are in the Sunday Style section or shows I attend doesn't achieve any of those goals.
Maybe I'll attend an event for a cheeky drink with a friend, but am I going to push my body and exhaust myself for a month of shows? Nope. I'll give that to the top dogs of fashion while I watch online before Pilates and hop onto ModaOperandi for my straight off the runway buys.