New York! London! Milan! Paris! Mars! (Oh, are there not fashion shows on Mars yet? Damn. Karl Lagerfeld really needs to get his shit together.)
Time to head to Paris. (And Rome. Apparently you’re allowed to have couture shows outside France? Who knew?)
Paris is positively oozing with glamour. Now that you are sufficiently grossed out, let us begin!
Fuck real life. Let’s go to New York Fashion Week.
New York Fashion Week stops for no one, dear readers. (I mean, technically it’s already ended, but as I always say, it ain’t over until the diva judges everyone as unworthy of getting to sit front row at a fashion show.)