On Thursday afternoon I did not have any concrete Friday night plans. This is not new. But this particular Thursday I did have two options: I could attempt to get tickets to see Snow Patrol's show or RSVP to the above event. My co-worker Shennell was invited, through a friend, to the Duckie Brown fashion show and after-party. I was immediately jealous--a fashion show during fashion week--well it is the ultimate New York activity, even if he designer is for men's wear. Shennell, in all his good-naturedness, forwarded me the invite and said I should try to rsvp and go. So I did. I didn't get immediately rejected, so I decided to go.

Oh, I vascilated. For one thing I didn't think I would have anything fashionable enough to wear. Plus, Snow Patrol's CD is really good. (I've already written about it.) Even though I recruited Alejandro to join me, I thought perhaps Snow Patrol would be more fun. In the end, I chose the Fashion Show. So I bought a new shirt and bag (with skull lining) and prettied myself up for the fashion show.

So it turned out to be just the after-party, not a fashion show, but I am not complaining. First of all, at the very beginning I proved my chops as a PR person. I sent my RSVP, but my name didn't show up on the guest list--I looked; it wasn't there. I explained that I may have sent a little to late, but since I hadn't heard anything I was sure I was on the list. The bouncer let me and Alejandro in! When I recounted the story to Shennell, he was impressed.

Since it was a party at a club, Alejandro and I weren't too sure if we would stay too long. After all, we wouldn't be drinking...and everyone else would be. We sat down at a booth and the British kid already sitting there asked me to watch his backpack. Now, my mom freaked out when I told her this. Just so you know it is a really small percentage of people who carry pipe bombs in their backpacks. This kid was like the many millions of New Yorkers who carry their personal belongings in a backpack. And he had shampoo in his bag, and although the airport security folk would have you believe that I should run for cover, rest assured I was completely safe. He took his time getting back to the booth, and he even joked that we must have thought he was a terrorist, and then he said that it was just shampoo. I immediately thought he must have been the hairdresser for the show. But before I asked, he explained it was the free stuff in the swag bags they always give out during fashion week. I aksed if he went to the show. Then he said that he was one of the models. Right away my curiousity was piqued. The recorded show was being projected on a screen, and I asked which outfit he wore. He explained that he wasn't in the show--he was the print model, i.e. the one on the invite. As you can tell, all there is up there is a mouth. He struck the pose, and voila! there was the mouth. I was going to ask him more questions, like what's your name, but Kanye West's "GoldDigger" came on and Alejandro wanted to dance. That was the end of a lovely conversation with a male model. Thanks Alejandro. He obviously does not get that I have a few requirements in a crush. Good-looking was one, and British accent is the other. Mystery Print Model had both.

You may wonder why I didn't let him dance by himself. Well, it was for his safety. The party was in Chelsea--a neighborhood with a lot of gay men, and there would most likely be a lot of gay men at a menswear fashion show, so I promised I would keep him from getting hit on. That requires me to leave a potentially good conversation with Mystery Print Model.

I hadn't danced in a while, so it was fun. But it was fun to see all the pretty boys too. Actually that was slightly depressing. All the boys were prettier than me, including the Hugo Boss model that graced us all with his presence. (Check him out - www.hugboss.com) I was also glad that despite the club location, no one danced like it was a club. Well, one couple enjoyed eachother's company a little too much, but no stranger came too close! Thank goodness. or darn it. I can't really decide.

Shennell asked me if I was disappointed that the invite was only for the after-party. Sure, I would love to have some free stuff, and see a show live but this is just my first Fashion Week in New York. I'll be at a real show soon enough.