Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Ah, the life of a blogger

A few weeks back I was contacted by someone offering fashion show tickets. Because I'm a blogger I get a lot of requests to write articles about female LBL products (light bladder leakage, and I wish I was kidding) or interview someone, or visit some place, or use some product in exchange for writing a favourable. I very very rarely comply because I realize a few things:

1) I'm not that kind of blogger. If they knew I only write about myself and my family they wouldn't have even sent me the invite in the first place. Pushing products is not my thing
2) Let's be honest, here. I'm not that good a writer. I can be slightly funny sometimes and I occasionally exhibit flashes of poignancy but I'm not a reviewer or critic in any way shape of form
3) If they actually read even one blog post, they'd see that I have very few followers and none (sorry guys) who have much influence on, well, anything (sorry again)

So when I got the invitation to go the the Mercedes Benz Start Up fashion show I thought two things. One: that it was a scam and it was really the front for a human trafficking ring. And two: that they sent the invite to the wrong blogger. After I quick check to confirm they weren't having the show in a numbered shipping container down on the docks, I sent an RSVP. What could it hurt?

It was the coolest thing I've ever been to. I got to wear a full face of makeup, a funky outfit and my Fluevogs. I drank 3 glasses of really good wine (gratis), had amazing little apps (also gratis) and hobnobbed with the fashion elite of Ottawa. Unfortunately I had no idea who anyone was but they sure looked spiffy. My plus one Marianne was also looking pretty great.

Me and Marianne look blurry but trust me, we looked FLY (yes, I'm aware that no one says "fly" anymore). How do I know? Someone said they liked my style. A stranger. At a freaking  fashion show.  


The tall coney thing is chicken mousse and the little cupcakey thing is smoked salmon.

Risotto. There was also scallops, and lamb and sliders but I was quickly becoming the idiot in the room taking photos of her food.


This fashion show was legit, people. It was the semi-finals of a competition to find Canada's most talented up and comer. Do you realize they also have to submit a business plan as well as the designs? These kids work hard and they are so dedicated. And because of my vast knowledge of the industry (what with several seasons of both Project Runway and America's Next Top Model under my belt, I know of what I speak), I was invited to rub elbows with these people.



I was too intimidated to talk to anyone but my gorgeous plus one but there was a guy named Lou that introduced himself to us. He was wearing blue shoes, people. Blue leather shoes. He sat beside us in the front row and told us that he discovered Ryan Gosling around the time of Breaker High. Uh huh. Then he went on to pull a photo of Ryan Gosling off his phone showing him wearing a dance show costume and posing with Lou's wife (also beside us). Crazy! After a quick Google search at home, sure enough the guy is a real deal talent agent and promoter. Damn... if only I had brought my head shots. I hear that Hollywood is always scouting plus-sized, nearly elderly, bald, Black actresses/models to make their products fly off the shelves.

Me and my agent Lou. 


So anyway, I'm going to stop automatically deleting the marketing emails I think don't pertain to my blogging style and just go for every reasonable offer that comes my way. And if that finds me on a container ship halfway across the Pacific on the way to meet my new husband, so be it.

The winner was VAIKEN clothing.


kxx

Trying (and failing at) a serious model face. It's so unlike me to not be "grinning my teeth" as my mum used to say.


I wasn't going to but I have to include one video. This is the RUDYBOIS collection. I think about this fashion design thing a lot like the way I think about meat. It just magically arrives at the grocery store on styrofoam trays. There is mild surprise every time I realize that there's an animal attached to bacon.

I'm forever amazed that people actually sew clothes and they just don't show up fully formed on the GT Boutique shelves. Clothes actually start as cloth. It's even in the name...



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