While living in New York, we sampled a wide variety of cultural fruits. Some were more to our liking--Beowulf rock opera of course was a favorite, but Madame Butterfly? Or interpretive dance? Not so much.
Like the Yankee's championship parade or Bourbon Street for Halloween, I can mark a fashion show off the list of cultural fruits, and with the knowledge that that first time would be good for a last time.
Somehow your old pal here, Chef Gonzo, with a little help, convinced the lady handing out lanyard badges (estimated price: $65)(the show was sold out) that he, er, I, was a new internet publicist and should be on the list.
The lady checking names had a hard time finding "Gonzo, Chef", but the other lady just said to skip it, and a third lady handed me a badge. I walked through the throng of women in line, trying to get badges.
Inside I looked around, letting the loud bass thumping through the near empty and mood lit hall reverberate in my skull.
The blue and pink lighting seem to fit. People started to show up, and by people I mean I began to notice a certain overwhelming percentage of the a specific persuasion of people.
This event was the IIDA (International Interior Design Association) Fashion Show and Contest, where (interior) design firms are assigned decades, then let run rampant at a pile of fabric. The idea is the pile of fabric should be used to design an outfit or two from the particular decade.
The firm that had the 70s used one gentleman who knew could rock the stilts.
That was one of the men. There were very few of us. The event was very well attended--about 650 people, 600 were ladies. Maybe ten of us gentleman were straight, and I doubt more than three were single.
Here's a shot of most of the field.
Here's a shot from up above, showing off the crowd and bright light from above.
Not an event that strikes my cultural fancy, but, for the hungry out in the abyss, you could do far, far worse.
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