Get in, losers.
Because nothing says “avant-garde” like shilling Samsung televisions.
Fuck real life. Let’s go to New York Fashion Week.
Let’s finish up this fabulous film festival, so we can move right along to the next one! (Seriously, the film-fest-scheduling gods must hate fashion bloggers. The Venice, Toronto, and Deauville festivals all overlap – and during New York Fashion Week. I swear, they’re trying to destroy me.)
It’s Sunday morning, I’m exhausted from my first week of being a real person in a very long time, and there’s an ungodly amount of fashion to get through. There is no better recipe for complete and utter bitchery, dear readers.