The great thing about a fashion week - and New York is no exception, is that it makes you uber sensitive about what to wear.
As part of the press pack, it shouldn't really matter as you can rest assured that by the 8th hour on your feet trudging lemming like from show to show, you are sure to be lookng more like stig of the dump than that papparazzo ready look you were chanelling earlier that morning - when, to be fair, there aren't that many papps around anyway - they're more likely to be nursing a sore head after burning the midnight oil trying to get shots of the late night show arrivals.
You can choose to be whoever you want at fashion week - a sleek pulled together media/buyer type, dressed elegantly and efficiently in office attire with this season's twist, who needs to get the show over and done with fast so she can get her copy posted or buying decisions made.
Noor Alsabah (buyer) wearing Behnaz Sarafpour dress, Mories statement necklace
You could be the quirky arty type who throws a creative look together and hangs around the tents with no ticket but safe in the knowledge that some blogger or other will papp you for a shot for 2 seconds of fame in the blogosphere. Conversley you could be a 'lookeylikey/wannabe' - see previous sentence.
You could be working your nuts off as a celebrity stylists right hand man and seat filler...
Or you could simply be your own quirky self...
The point is it's all about the fashion darling after all...
