7 Ways to Cure the NYFW Blues

Well folks,

it's that time of year again.

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That time that those of us unfortunate enough so as enough to be deemed "average citizens" sit at home in our tiny efficiencies and watch as tons of people "cooler" than us dress a lot "cooler" than we do.

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That's right, kids. 

It's almost NYFW time.

And if you know what "NYFW" means, you're likely already yearning pretty badly to be a part of it. Whether you're conscious of it or not, I'm just going to obnoxiously assume that some part of you deeply desires to run amongst the "peacocks" of the world. Because going into the actual shows is a bit too ambitious of a dream - even for us pie-in-the-sky-minded thinkers.

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So what's a midwestern outcast to do? 

Shed a tear over her lack of sartorial inclusion? 

Stalk "worthy" bloggers and celebrities in an attempt to live through their eyes?

Or just create her own mini fiesta, in a desperate attempt to rival that which takes place out east?

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I think we all know where I'm going with this one. . .

HOW TO CURE NYFW FOMO* 

(*Fear of Missing Out, for those of you unaccustomed to annoying social media derived syndromes).

1. Refuse to acknowledge that it exists.

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Method one is the ultimate mode of denial. 

It's also an attempt to appear too good for pleasantries like Chanel shows and Phil Oh Vogue photos.

"'NYFW?' Hm. Haven't heard of it. I must have been too busy looking insanely badass in my fully-thrifted ensemble - which refers in no subtle way to any sort of designer's "ironic" collection."

baBAM.

2.  Dress like an idiot, irregardless of social circumstance.

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Because that's what NYFW divas do. They defy social norms in an attempt to conform to the exceptional social norms of fashion week.

In sum, they dress like deranged people.

3. Say designers' names . . . a lot.

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Just sort of casually throw in "Wang" &"Lim" & "Slimane" in day-to-day conversation. 

Also, I recommend saying "collection" a lot.

"The overall simplicity of this Fish Filet's dressing reek's of Wang's S/S '14 collection."

You'll sound incredibly dumb to many - incredibly fashionable to most. 

4. Make inspiration boards.

 

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Play some chill, semi-depressing music for just the right hint of I-feel-sorry-for-myself-ness, and (manually) cut & paste away. 

I find that physically cutting out images of what/where/when/with whom you wish you were proves incredibly therapeutic as far as "FOMO" coping skills go. 

Also, it's like super fun to slice through models' faces and go "oops!"

6. Read the NYT Style Section and blatantly disagree with everything Cathy Horn or Susie Menkes says. 

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This is incredibly empowering.  Not only does it make you feel like you have a legitimate opinion, simply because it's glaringly different from the "status quo", but your acquaintances will probably think that you're extra brave and counter-culture to be contradicting famous people and maybe even ask you for advice to which you have no legitimate answer. 

#score

If you can't join 'em, 

bash 'em. 

That's the definition of maturity, right?

7. Go on a cleanse. 

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I don't really know what a "cleanse" is, but I do know, based on countless hours of high quality reality television and Gossip Girl episodes, that it often makes people very cranky and unawares of reality. 

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So it seems to me that there's a good chance that living off lemon juice and wheatgrass for a week will essentially wipe said week from memory. 

So...

I'm basically a nutritionist. 

7. Take every blog, every photo, every "coverage", every everything with a giant sea-salt sized grain of salt. 

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It's not as cool as it looks. 

It's cool, 

heck yes,

but it's not as cool as it looks. 

Nothing is, or every will be, as wonderful as Zanita or Candice or any other beautiful photographer makes it look. 

Or so I tell myself. 

Pathetically often. 

Cheers.