My Third Fashion Week: A Diary

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Complex Original

Image via Complex Original

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Read Jon's first diary here and his second diary here.

Did you guys know this past week was not just a normal week, but Fashion Week in New York City? I KNOW, IT'S LIKE NO ONE WAS EVEN TALKING ABOUT IT. Well, thank Yahweh I'm here to wrap everything up like a neat, steezy little package and give you fuccbois some closure on the S/S 15 shows. YEAH, THAT'S RIGHT, THEY INVITED ME BACK FOR A THIRD TIME, MOTHERFUCKERS. I don't know why my editors think it's a good idea to continually be seen with me in public or who convinced various PR companies that I need to be in attendance at their clients' very costly, very important fashion shows, but you can bet your very last fucking jawn that I'm gonna become a fixture of the New York fashion scene despite living in fucking Detroit. IS IT 'CAUSE A BLOGGER HANDSOME AND WEALTHY? Probably not, but maybe.

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Day 3: September 4th, Night Time

After the Todd Snyder show at Lincoln Center, the squad decided to get something to eat, since that's become a little bit of a tradition. At first, there were 6 of us planning to eat. Then just 4. Then 8. Then back to 4. Which normally wouldn't be a problem, but we had already sat and started eating at a table of four when our party Animorphed back into a party of 8. Guys, the next part of the story is a PSA for all of you that are parts of a strong squad. We ordered some big ass carafes of Rose and before I could say, "Damn, this rose is refreshing as fuck," the whole squad was at one another's throats. ROSE CAN TEAR THE TEAM APART FASTER THAN WEALTH AND FAME. It was like living the part of a Behind the Music episode when the band breaks up. I won't get into details or name names 'casue I'm not a snitch or anything, but let's just say things like "eat a dick" and "fuck you" and yelling and SMFHing definitely happened before I could even bite into my expensive ass hamburger. It got so intense that I went and hid in the co-ed bathroom thing downstairs as the squad made a scene in the midst of several couples that were clearly attempting to have moderately romantic date nights.

Pro tip to those on romantic date nights: If you see a squad of completely over-dressed assholes waltz into the establishment and spend more money on Rose than on food, you better hit the eject button real quick, real fucking quick unless you want your dinner interrupted with what can only be described as a cattier version of a Real Housewives of Nobody Gives a Shit reunion. You knew it was bad because after returning 8 credit cards to the table our waiter simply ended the dinner with, "Good luck tonight guys. You're gonna need it."

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Day 4: September 5th

Lawrence made me come into the office, so I had to carry a fucking tote bag with my computer in it and then when I got to the office there was no spare desk for me so Lawrence and Skylar made me sit in the corner of Jian and Donnie's office because they have a table in there. Which seemed apropos since we actually never really interact with one another and it felt weird to not be communicating solely through the subject lines of emails. Also, everyone kept tweeting and mentioning about how, for a guy that is so reliant on caps lock, I'm disturbingly quiet. IT'S JUST THAT I'M NOT USED TO OFFICE ENVIRONMENTS AND ETIQUETTE. Also, I realized that I could never work in the Complex offices because everyone notices your sneakers there and the bathroom stalls aren't floor to ceiling and therefore people will know when you're pooping. Pooping with impunity is the only reason why I stay in hotels instead of imposing on my friends that actually live in NYC. I thought it was the secret to my street style success, but this week totally debunked that myth.

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Day 7: September 8th

I had a pretty free day today because everything I got invited to was at night. Did I use the day to see some of the cultural sites that make New York City a crowning jewel of the eastern seaboard? NOPE. I slept the fuck in and ate Americanized Chinese food because that's what you do when you're on vacation in New York.

Anyways, cut to 6pm and the Ervell show, which your boy was pumped to see. Obviously, Schlossman abandoned me for the front row, sitting next to real gawds, like he always does, while I trudged to the struggle seats. But next to me was sitting a TRUE LORD. We had spotted this guy at literally EVERY show, dressing swagless (read: Been Trill x PacSun snapbacks with sportcoats) coming in late, sitting wherever the fuck he wanted, so I surreptitiously texted the team: "I'm sitting next to [terribly insensitive nickname redacted to protect the innocent]" which I thought they’d respond with, "LOLZ" and end it there. Instead, my EIC goes, "Ask him who he is, I need to know," to which I tried to make him make Sklyar do it, to which he replied, "DO IT OR UR FIRED." So I spent the whole show trying to think of an excuse to introduce myself. After I did and found out who he was, he asked me why I was at the show (Burn #1). I replied, "Oh, I'm with Complex," to which he retorted, "Good luck with that" (Burn #2). Yo, I got fucking big timed by a guy who wore the same alphet everyday of fashion week. SMFH although really LMAO TBH.

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Day 8: September 9th

For me, this was the official end of New York Fashion Week. I capped the week off with the Pigalle x Nike basketball tournament. You guys, this was a big deal. There was a line out the door to get in and despite rolling with Joe LaPuma (who goes sneaker shopping with, like, The Game and shit) and one half of the Fashion Bros (James, who actually put together one of the teams playing), I got big timed at the door and then the brolic security guard was like, "GET THE FUCK OFF THE SIDEWALK. THIS ISN'T A CLUB." I was a little perplexed at this because that's exactly what someone at a club would yell.

But whatever. James got on his batphone and within a few minutes a really nice woman was ushering us into the venue. AND GODDAMN, SHIT WAS FIRE. They had pretzels and popcorn and shoestring potatoes and beers. Oh yeah, and a three on three basketball tournament. I watched the games and noticed Sarah Kim of By Way of Brooklyn was there and we've met a bunch of times, but I wasn’t 100% sure because it was dark and the only real lighting was a weird shade of purple and I didn't want to be wrong and inadvertently introduce myself to a stranger because, like, ten seconds earlier a different woman was like, "Jon? JON?" and I turned and waived, but she was talking to another Jon directly behind me and that was super embarrassing and I'm pretty sure Cedar and Karizza and Welty noticed, but they were super nice and didn't make fun of me.

After I stopped giving a fuck who was going to win this fake tourney, I walked the wrong direction with LAS and when he got on the train I walked immediately to the nearest fast food establishment and ate my weight in nugs and then went to sleep only to wake up way too late to make it to the Complex offices the next morning without everyone realizing I'm the kind of degenerate who thinks that 1:45 in the afternoon is a decent hour to start the work day.

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