Fashion victim

While I'm on the subject of high fashion, dear readers, I may as well share a very recent faux pas of my own.

First of all, let me say that I am not, and have never been, a fashion maven. As I write this, I'm sitting on my couch in sweatpants, a face mask and heated spa socks. I don't go out this way, of course, since I don't want to scare anybody. Truth be told, I was a nerdy ugly duckling growing up, a late bloomer who only grew into herself in her mid-20's. I have a pretty solid sense of style now, and am comfortable with myself in a way that I've never been before. I'm happy to say that the kind of self-acceptance that I enjoy now comes from my achievements and relationships, not from the way I look, which I worry about less and less as time goes on. That being said, I'm artsy, and I like for my clothes to reflect that. I've got a penchant for elegant cuts and quirky details; Flirty Pretty Things, if you will.

This past week I had the opportunity to attend the debut of designer Joy Han's new line, called Voom. Her fall collection is vintage inspired; I love vintage clothes, so I was excited to see the new pieces. My friend Liz and I agreed to meet at (h)armonie, the boutique on Abbott Kinney Blvd. in Venice where the event was to be held around 6:30pm. We both wound up running late because of work, and each found ourselves stuck in horrendous traffic to boot. Liz arrived first and said she'd wait for me inside the boutique; the fashion show was scheduled to start at 7.

I made a wrong turn on Abbott Kinney and had to double back. I was horrendously late, finally parking my car at 7:01. I booked down the street and rushed into the boutique to look for Liz - luckily, the show hadn't started yet. (h)armonie was packed with people bustling about. I couldn't find Liz, and soon realized that the very tall and skinny women around me were Joy Han's models, who were being dressed for the show. Okay, I'm clearly in the wrong area. I couldn't see any way out of the small room that I was in, except to go back out onto the street. The boutique must have another room, but where was it?

After wandering through a few clothing racks, I saw a divider curtain and made a beeline for it. I didn't see the "Watch your step" sign next to the curtain until the last minute, and found myself tripping up a small set of stairs. Tired, aggravated and disoriented, I pushed the curtain out of my face and walked through...

...right onto the catwalk.

Oh, god. I was confronted with a sea of confused faces below me, including a couple of photographers who looked vaguely annoyed. They'd had their cameras at the ready until they realized that this 5'4" woman wearing teal low-rider jeans and a T-shirt that read "Domestically Disabled" couldn't possibly be a model. I was frozen for a second, arms akimbo, holding a curtain in each hand as I tried to decide whether to just jump down from the runway or turn tail and flee. I finally spotted Liz in the middle of the crowd; she waved excitedly and beckoned me over. God bless her, she wasn't at all embarrassed to be associated with me.

Well, fuck it, this is probably the only runway walk I'll ever do. I tried to put my best "I totally meant to come in this way, don't you know who I am?" look on my face, crossed the catwalk about halfway and jumped down next to Liz. She didn't miss a beat. "You're just in time! Let's get you a drink, they have an open bar!" What a gal.

The show itself was incredible; Joy Han's clothes are gorgeous. I may buy something to try and make up for giving her show a false start!