In October 2006, District L was on a northbound train, heading to Milan to crash Fashion Week. Barely 18-years-old, we maximized the power of the American stereotype to convince security, PR assistants, and perhaps even ourselves that we were entitled access to any show.
With sheer elation, we slid into ShirtPassion by Sonia Fortuna. The lights dimmed and centered, then the resounding music began (which, by the way, was Stars are Blind by Paris Hilton). A collection of upbeat looks in light, patterned fabrics circled the runway – and we felt like we were on top of the world. So much so, that during the year we lived in our old, haunted villa in Florence, we hurtled security in both Milan and Paris, attending shows like Guy Laroche, Jean-Charles de Castelbajac, and A/B Soul.
Five years later, we find ourselves in New York as reformed fashion grifters, agreeing that crashing is not only déclassé, but also kind of a sad thing to do as a working “adult.”
Yet on this beautiful day in October 2011, I once again have my bags packed - ready to return to the town where District L began.
Post by Amanda LaMela
