Blasblog: My Fashion-Week Week Off
The inconvenient truth of fashion weeks this season? Chalk it up to whatever you will, but Mother Nature has not been on the side of style or stilettos. Snow drifts in New York, rain in London, gale-force winds in Milan—it’s enough to make you consider a night in. (Just kidding!) But knowing full well there would be no rest for the weary in Paris, I did the unthinkable—skipped Milan fashion week and headed for the recently opened Amanyara resort in Turks and Caicos instead.
On the islands, we weren’t exempt from a little inclement weather, either; when I first landed, it poured in the Turks. (At one point, I thought it was raining sideways.) But on the advice of Alexa Chung, who had a similar experience down in the Caribbean recently, I put myself in the hands of a gregarious, mustached bartender, who plied me with delicious island drinks I had the good sense not to ask what was in. But ultimately the sun came out, the beach beckoned my name, and I spent beach days relaxing and, of course, checking out the collections here on Style.com. From the comfort of my little island retreat I fell in love with Peter Dundas at Pucci, thought peekaboo knitwear at Missoni was genius, and adored the casting at Prada (Victoria’s Secret models in Italian high fashion? OK!). Blame it on my environment, I was even feeling the pirate-hooker-damsel-in-distress vibe at Cavalli. And now, rested and refreshed, I’m trading paradise for Paris, where I’m heading tomorrow, straight off the plane and to Balmain, ladies and gentlemen. I just hope my fellow editors recognize me with this tan and an accessory that may be foreign to those who have ridden the fashion train straight from New York through to Paris—a smile.
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