Living in India was the first time that I had no one around telling me what to do or who to be.
After college, I rebelled from a conservative Republican family by moving to San Francisco.
The problem with the Bay Area is that everyone agrees with each other, so there is a lack of critical thinking and serious passion.
I went to India and learned something that the liberal mafia nor Howard Beach Italians would never let me admit: it is OK to manipulate the system to get what you want. Here is an old blog post from when I was finally able to put on a corset and get out on the runway. Posted in post-fashion week enthusiasm.
“A friend-of-a-friend in Calcutta is a designer who got into Indian fashion week for the first time. Friends of theirs were going there to help out so I tagged along. I was essentially an errand boy for them and did stuff like hang up clothes and get people breakfast, but in exchange got to wear designer clothes all week, see tons of runway shows that most people just watch on F-TV (India’s 24-hour fashion network that shows mostly runway shows) and go to lots of parties with the “beautiful people” of Bombay.
You’d think that I would be disgusted by the whole ensemble of starved models, sleazy agents, uptight designers and pathetic flunkeys, but by the end of my first runway show, I was sold on the Bombay fashion industry.
- Bombay is by far the best city in India.
- runway shows are a performance of sorts. Like drag people are performing gender.
- the schmoozing is so ridiculous that you can’t help but see it too as a performance. Everyone is running around kissing each other’s ass and trying to move up the ladder, and you need good acting skills to pull it off. It’s all just pretend for business purposes and the best actor wins!
