The Fashion Outsider: A guide to dealing with us tiresome fash peeps during fashion week

“It’s fash week omg I couldn’t possibly find the time.”

Melbourne Spring Fashion Week is upon us. That one week in the fashion calendar when bloggers like myself can feel like a princess for a moment. Just maybe not Princess Kate. Or Princess Mary… I guess they’re the WAGs.

Us bloggers are probably more like Princess Beatrice. The Princess Beatrice with the weird sperm hat at Kate’s wedding. Like, we belong there just like everyone else, but we’re wearing something weird, and we’re probably seated second row. BUT WE’RE STILL A PRINCESS BITCH.

It’s the week when we moan about how #busy we are, while not really doing anything that resembles work at all. It’s also the week when your non-fash friends are in a perpetual state of *eye roll*.

A friend of mine texted me about catching up for lunch this week, and after scoffing for approximately 35 minutes, I texted back something inane about how it’s fash week omg I couldn’t possibly find the time. Then I vomited at myself.

After recovering over a matcha latte (that’s it, I’m going back to coffee), I considered the fact that normal people – who apparently don’t take photos of their outfits every day or lay their make-up on white marble in intricate patterns to post on Instagram – might not understand this WHOLE THING we call fashion week.

So, I decided to write a handy guide for friends and family dealing with all us tiresome fash peeps over the next week. A few pointers, if you will, on the things that no one in fashion talks about…

All those outfits we wear? Most of them are borrowed. The next day, we have to drive them back to the PR’s office in our pumpkin. Shhhhh don’t tell anyone.
You don’t actually have to be invited to attend. Although we like to pretend it’s some exclusive thing, any punter can buy a ticket to a runway at MSFW. Shhhhh don’t tell anyone.
If you are invited to an event with your fash friend, you are now their official photographer. No, you won’t be in any of the pics. Yes, you do have to take more than one pic of my outfit when I ask you to ‘take one pic of my outfit’. I’m just saying that loudly so I don’t out myself as vain. Shhhhh don’t tell anyone.
If we’re not seated in the front row, we probably won’t share any photos from the runway. Because we’re all brats. And silence on Instagram is the equivalent of an adult fash tanty. Shhhhh don’t tell anyone.
No, there won’t be any food. PLEASE TELL EVERYONE WE NEED MORE FOOD.

Any more questions, normal-friend-who-has-to-deal-with-their-annoying-blogger-friend-this-week? Please direct them to me via Twitter. I promise to answer them honestly. Mainly because no one in fashion is on Twitter.

But the most important question of all, this week, has to be: Is champers tax deductible? Well it should be, sweetie.

Follow Bianca’s confusing Melbourne Spring Fashion Week journey on Instagram @alphabetponymag