Of all the many scenes in Clueless that helped me to become the person I am today, Travis Birkenstock’s tardiness acceptance speech is among the most important.
“Tardiness is not something you can do on your own,” he says from the podium. “Many, many people contributed to my tardiness.”
It’s inspirational and humbling. Travis is right — being late is a group effort; rarely is it “just” your fault. As such, I thought I’d give my own version of an acceptance speech to those who made me late, and on time!, for my day in the life during New York Fashion Week featuring Sunday, September 13.
12:00 p.m.: I’d first like to thank my dad, Eric Diamond, for our longstanding bi-annual tradition where he drives me to Derek Lam. This time, he dropped me off right in front of everyone and everything even though I asked him to let me off around the block.
12:05 p.m.: Then he did that toot-toot horn thing your own dad probably did after dropping you off at middle school.
1:30 p.m.: After Derek Lam, Leandra and I came back to my apartment where I sat on the couch and worked like a normal person while she sat on the floor, faced a bookshelf like a kid in time out and typed up her Day in the Life.
3:00 p.m.: We worked until Thakoon which made me want to wear high-thigh bias cut shorts and go immediately back on vacation. Then Leandra left me for two and a half days to observe the Jewish New Year. 🙁
She is lucky I don’t turn this into Horse.com while she’s away.
4:00 p.m.: I George-Michaeled all the way down to Milk Studios, which was kind of a long walk and if I’m being completely honest, I took a cab. With time to kill before the next show, I went into Chelsea Market, ate food, checked emails and glared at tourists for asking if the 123456 free seats next to me were taken.
5:45 p.m.: After Jonathan Simkhai (a super pretty collection of party dresses that read sexy and romantic rather than too-sweet with a group of white numbers that you can bet some laid-back girl will buck tulle tradition for and get married in), my early-streak ended, probably because I no longer had A) my dad nor B) our actual fashion week driver, who ruled and did not do the double-dad-honk upon drop off. Big shout out to him in my speech.
5:50 p.m.: Also, I did something risky: I had to change. Had to. I hated my outfit and I was cold and had a long night ahead of me, so I ran home on my own two dumb feet. Zero thanks goes to the espadrilles that kept making me roll my ankle.
5:55 p.m.: Yes I know I made fun of Leandra for going home to change in the newsletter.
I semi miss her.
5:58 p.m.: You should know that at this juncture I was changing in my apartment while an Uber driver sat outside and lowered my rating for being late.
5:59 p.m.: You should also know that Edun, my next show, was set to start at 6.
6:05 p.m.: However! Shows are notoriously late. Like Jack Bauer in 24, I texted my equivalent of Chloe who was handling the Edun show and asked for an update on the start time. At 6:19 they were still waiting for a celebrity (not me) so by pure luck and dumb shoes and my brilliant Uber driver who definitely did something illegal but much appreciated, I made it. Major thanks to you, dude.
6:44 p.m.: My pictures from the show sucked, but, I did get a pic of Lucy Chadwick post-show because we are style-stalking her at Team MR. Get ready 4 that.
6:46 p.m.: Here’s where I’d like to thank the New York City subway system. After five minutes of sitting on the Uptown 1 train at the Varick and Canal stop without moving, it was announced the train would never work again, at least until I had spent five billion dollars on a cab — then it would resume, without me.
7:00 p.m.: Got a cab. Sat in traffic. Sold my first-born. Bit my nails off.
7:40-something: I miraculously made it to Prabal Gurung on time (I’d like to thank the fashion world for also running equally as late), was calmed by chanting monks, and then headed uptown where I sat in more traffic.
!!! My favorite thing ever is spending rent money on cabs !!!
8:30 p.m.: Took a break from fashion to eat family dinner at my friend Trent’s apartment where we watched football and tennis except for me who napped in between bites of lobster mac and cheese. Add that to my NYFW diet, for real.
9:45 p.m.: After being sufficiently made fun of for wearing high waisted flares and a button down shirt (I was likened to Jessie from Toy Story 2, among other fun cowgirl references) I bid my friends goodbye.
10:00 p.m.: While seated at the Bloglovin’ Awards where I was mildly underdressed, I received the following text:
Hey look! Your butt is famous!
Turns out the guys were right. I did look like Jessie from Toy Story.
11:30 p.m.: On time for bed. Shout out to all who got me there, and to all a good night.