I’m waiting in line at the fashion show entrance, surveying all the sassy, stylish women as they arrive in their stiletto heels, boots, accessories, and creative outfits. I am enjoying this feeling of sharing space with people who love fashion. There is a creative energy in the air and I’m excited to be a part of this event!

I find my way to the bar and order a glass of wine because an adult beverage is a must when attending a fashion show. I continue to observe the crowd, the models rushing to the green room to squeeze into their frocks and get their noses powdered, and then I pass the mile long hors d’oeuvres line and wonder to myself why so many people are concerned about eating when we are about to see skinny models in fabulous clothing. Isn’t starvation typically the word of the evening when it comes to runway shows? Well, maybe I’m the only one thinking this because literally, more than half the place is waiting to indulge.

I find my seat and get comfortable and ready to enjoy. Since I have a little time to kill I text my friends to tell them I’m at the show and aren’t they jealous?! I am on the edge of my seat as the first model comes out, making sure I can see all the details and take it all in, and suddenly, I realize this is not your typical fashion show. The models are real-size, which I love! I am a real advocate for seeing real women models. I am enjoying this until…I see some of them walk. The music playing was at a very high tempo so in general, it would have been difficult to stay on the beat let alone perform a ‘runway walk’, but as professional models, they should have practiced this in advance and certainly perfected it prior to a show right? Unfortunately, this is not the case. I sat back in my seat wondering if a few of them had sustained leg injuries prior to the show because their gait was so awkward. I decided to give them a break and just focus on the fashion. There was a variety of ethnic clothing that had amazing detail and I was starting to really appreciate some of the fabulous colors and shapes, and the flow of the fabrics.

I was anxiously awaiting the next designer’s creations, but had to remain patient through a long break because the same models were used for multiple designers. I was starting to feel sorry for the emcees because they weren’t prepared to fill this dead air. They started to read from a script, the bio’s of each judge, which, while we appreciate the talent and experience they bring, most of the audience really isn’t interested in hearing the finer points from a resume’, so the crowd starts to get restless. Finally, they bring on the next designer. I was trying to be optimistic that things were going to improve a bit and I would see something new and exciting. New was definitely the word, but another word that came to mind was raunchy, along with a few other words that I don’t feel right about writing because after all, every designer should have the right to express themselves. Needless to say, I was not feeling like running out to find those clothing items to add to my wardrobe because, I am not a stripper.

After this showing, I wasn’t sure what was going to happen next so I decided to wait it out and try to enjoy the rest of this ‘unique’ experience. Next was another delay, but this time, the emcees got creative and asked for audience volunteers to come onstage and do a runway walk. I have to give them credit because this actually got the audience involved a bit and maybe kept a few more in their seats. I had to laugh a bit to myself because a few of the participants actually had a better walk than some of the models in the actual show. Following this was more ethnic clothing and then another break, which brought another contest to the stage…a dance off with volunteer audience members. They couldn’t find but one volunteer so they had to grab a judge to compete against him. More audience members filed out, sent texts, or were laughing to themselves because seriously, wasn’t this supposed to be a fashion show? All in all, I was really disappointed with this event and if they somehow pull together another show next year, I will most likely decline the invitation. Until then, I will work on recovering from this long evening of a painful showing of fashion.