Showing posts with label model. Show all posts
Showing posts with label model. Show all posts
Sunday, July 3
A dream fashion show
17:52 The show is starting in a few hours. Barely able to breathe, I let my hand move itself into my man purse, extract a cigarette and light up; involuntarily while eager faces pass me. They're all giving me the "knowing" look and make me feel slightly uncomfortable. God what would I do without this cigarette? I ask myself as a few more neatly dressed girls amble by.
18:25 It's nearly showtime. Who do these people think I am? Everything is a haze and my head feel blanker than that of someone suffering from amnesia. I elbow my through a crowd of people; some familiar, others oddly unfamiliar. There's loud music blarring from speakers nearby and camera flashes are hysterically bursting all over the room. What is this? New Years eve?
18:45 Fifteen minutes to showtime. "Where are my models?" I scream at my Personal Assistant who is strutting around the room, eyes wide with her BlackBerry glued to her palm. "They're coming through Mr. Jacobs." She assures me in her native Italian accent. "Thank goodness Francesca," I exhale. "Let's get this show started! Line them up." She lines them up and I watch with a glow to my face as they take their positions in the queue. This is my debut and Milan is freezing cold. But who cares about the weather? Jacobs by Raeez Jacobs needs to launch successfully.
19:00 There's nothing I can do now. The first few girls walked the ramp already. I sigh out of relief and shoot looks of approval to some of them coming backstage for outfit changes. There's still chaos around me though and the repititive sound of a blowdryer gnaws at my ears. I glance at the audience and see the looks of satisfaction on their faces. They must like my line. Tonight is my night to shine.
18:25 It's nearly showtime. Who do these people think I am? Everything is a haze and my head feel blanker than that of someone suffering from amnesia. I elbow my through a crowd of people; some familiar, others oddly unfamiliar. There's loud music blarring from speakers nearby and camera flashes are hysterically bursting all over the room. What is this? New Years eve?
18:45 Fifteen minutes to showtime. "Where are my models?" I scream at my Personal Assistant who is strutting around the room, eyes wide with her BlackBerry glued to her palm. "They're coming through Mr. Jacobs." She assures me in her native Italian accent. "Thank goodness Francesca," I exhale. "Let's get this show started! Line them up." She lines them up and I watch with a glow to my face as they take their positions in the queue. This is my debut and Milan is freezing cold. But who cares about the weather? Jacobs by Raeez Jacobs needs to launch successfully.
19:00 There's nothing I can do now. The first few girls walked the ramp already. I sigh out of relief and shoot looks of approval to some of them coming backstage for outfit changes. There's still chaos around me though and the repititive sound of a blowdryer gnaws at my ears. I glance at the audience and see the looks of satisfaction on their faces. They must like my line. Tonight is my night to shine.
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