You save all your vacation days for market weeks. If you're balling, you go to Florence for Pitti Uomo, where you eat a shitload of gelato, sit on the famed "Pitti wall" with your boys and try to get street styled, and gawk at a bunch of finely-crafted menswear you'll never afford. Or you just book a ticket for New York to go to Capsule, where you try to talk to guys like Mark McNairy but never actually work up the courage because you're way too starstruck.