I was a little nervous to go to the Lady Gaga fashion show. I won't lie. I love to dance. I love parties. But I am not really a 'club' girl. So I wasn't sure what to expect. I went with some good girlfriends. We met at my darling friend Sara's house for appetizers and showed off our outfits before hitting the scene. The entire drive up I had swans swarming my stomach. What was I supposed to DO at a fashion show? What if people...gulp...talked to me? When we pulled up and then 'made our entrance' I was Abruptly Overwhelmed. :-)))
The gauzy lights, pulsing music, shattering movements of bodies around me. And then cameras flashing.
I felt like I just stepped onto a movie set. We were attacked my 'paparazzi'. They chased us with flashes, ushered us to poses and 'sets'. At first I thought COOL. But then my cheeks started hurting. The way they often do when I tackle more than one princess party in a day (for those of you who don't know my second job is dressing up like a princess and playing with kids, fun, but tiring).
We were given the VIP treatment. Literally. First we were escorted to this rad overlook with this techno water that poured down the glass that surrounded us. The seats were fat, non-symmetrical cushions. I wasn't sure HOW to sit properly on such a strange shape, so I just...improvised. Up in the Water Room I was approached by a guy. We shall call him Dreamy. He had longish hair, and looked somewhere between rogue and artsy. Not my usual type. Okay...a girl isn't picky when a rogue artsy type approaches you. Dreamy was charming, flattering, and new exactly what to say.
What was weirder was...I KNEW what to say. Like I'd watched the same movies and sitcoms he had growing up, our dialogue bounced back and forth in a fiery, yet predictable pattern that had me thinking, "do people really talk like this?" I mean...I'm used to the dudes from church who approach you with a "hey lets go play Mario Card." Not some suave "I've never seen a face like yours"...blah blah buttering up blah.
The night played on like an episode of The Hills. Complete with random club goers snapping pics of us with their phones (it seemed everyone thought we were SOMEONE), the offer of free drinks all around (I don't drink, but enjoyed a diet coke), and tons of gym attending attractive guys with heavy lidded eyes approaching.
And just like an episode of The Hills I remember the night in subtle, edited fragments. And I think it will stay that way in my memory. One episode. That I can re-run but never re-write.
