Image Source: Kyra Mackesy
As I moved through New York Penn Station, admiring it’s resemblance to an airport, I realized where I was. As I walked up the stairs — quite ungracefully in my heels — the skyscrapers, billboards, and fast-moving bodies appeared. I was in New York City.
The twelve blocks from the train station to Metropolitan West, the venue for New York College Fashion Week, possessed so much history and culture. The streets may have smelled of urine and fried food, but I had never felt more sophisticated.
We walked and watched the numbered streets increase as quickly as our hunger. Keeping an eye out for a good place to eat, we came across a little restaurant called Siblings. The friendly staff and photogenic food made it feel like a classic city trip.
As my friend and I approached the fashion show, women dressed in denim, mesh, and fur wrapped around the building and stretched down the street. We knew we were in the right place.
People passing by were confused by the crowd of college girls, as we complained about our shoes and the low batteries on our phones.
The line began to move slowly as a man in a suit banded those over twenty-one years old. He apologized and even looked disappointed for us when we informed him we were not of age.
We arrived inside the venue and were handed goodie bags. I felt like a little kid on Christmas morning, eager to open them up to see what was inside — until I was distracted by the everything Her Campus College Fashion Week had to offer.
I was surprised by what we were able to see, experience and eat. Primark’s pop-up shop, Ulta’s beauty bar, and Her Campus’ temporary tattoo station collectively made up any fashionista’s fantasy. Spindrift, the sparkling water made with real fruit, and Shake Shack ice cream were undeniably delicious. The performance by Trinidad Cardona, an Arizona native who became famous overnight, set the upbeat, light-hearted tone for the event.
The fashion show itself was inspirational. College students were dressed in wearable, realistic clothing. The models, while diverse in ethnicity, were mostly tall and thin.
As the show came to a close, women began dropping to the floor to sit, giving their feet a much deserved break while they looked through their photos.
I thought my evening would end with my first “dirty water dog” — a hot dog from a vendor on the street — and a last glance at the city that never sleeps.
But, the glamour and excitement would falter and reality would set in on the train ride back to campus. There had been a fatality on the track near Princeton Junction. The devastation was ignited even more than it already was by the immediate need for many people to get home. The train stopped and gave everyone the option to find another way home or to wait out the investigation. Luckily, fellow students from The College were also on the train and we were able to get a ride with them back to campus.
Her Campus’ College Fashion Week may not have ended as elegantly as it began, but the experience is one that I will never forget. For one night, I stepped into the worlds of Carrie Bradshaw and Blair Waldorf. I can’t wait to do it all again next year.