ENCHANTMENT

TSUMORI CHISATO prêt-à-porter automne-hiver 2016-2017 My second gracing of Paris Fashion Week last March was a completely different affair from the first. More shows, more presentations and more parties meant more scheduling conflicts, more yoyo-ing between the left and right banks of the Seine and more moments of panic. Never before had I given any thought to the importance of a comfortable pair of shoes till that moment when it started pouring, Uber stopped working and I was late for a re-see. Believe me, I ran. And I have the blisters to prove it. But at the end of the day, how could you not love the whole experience? It meant more pay-offs. I'm in the fashion capital of the world, chasing my dreams, rubbing shoulders with the best of the best. It could be a whole lot worse, right? Apparently I was wrong. It's totally understandable if you've been doing this for years and find this whole shebang exhausting, but multiple encounters with a certain fashion editor left me flabbergasted. She was actually disgusted by the fact that I was completely excited to be attending shows. Each time I ran into her, her nonchalance started to look more like apathy. And with each roll of her eyes, she made it seem like she did not want to be there. Until she confirmed my suspicions and actually said she'd rather be at home in bed. Every time I opened my mouth to lighten the situation, she cut me off with a snide remark. "Don't be so excited. It's just work." Cue eye-roll. Was I the naïve one? Was there something wrong with me for publicly displaying my enthusiasm?...
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