The Ugly Side Of New York Fashion Week

When I say that it's Fashion Week to friends and family who aren't "in the industry" (which is, let's be honest, all of my family and 89.99% of my friends), they typically respond by saying "Oh, well aren't you glamorous," or, "Are you going to take me to the after parties?" or, "I don't understand, does that mean we have to cancel our Fifty Shades of Grey  date?" Point is: The glossy parts are always the ones that come to the surface.  In actuality, things aren't always as "fabulous" as they seem. In fact, that's not even the half of it. In reality, we're running around filing stories from our phones, eating croissants from bodegas, and getting blisters from the stilettos we're simultaneously ruining in the snow. Tres, chic, non?  Do not get me wrong, though: I love going to Fashion Week. It's a privilege to see the collections as they unfold and reviewing them is one of my favorite parts of my job. But, that's because I love clothes. Not because I love the late hours that turn into mornings, or the feeling that my outfit isn't enough (or that my access isn't enough, or that my words aren't enough). This stuff comes with the territory, but it's just not as well-documented.  So, instead of hiding the (sometimes) ugly truth any longer, I've decided to put together a sizzle reel of what New York Fashion Week can actually  feel like — tears in a pile of clothing, included. The result? A true-to-life look at the potential low-lows of an otherwise super pristine situation. Mom, Dad, friends: this is what it means to go to #NYFW.