What does it take to cover New York Fashion week? Stamina, humour—and plenty of money for cab fares. Photo by ImaxTree.com.

I’m often asked what a typical day is like for me—it generally doesn’t lend itself to the most engaging storytelling. Hmm, let’s see… I get up at 6:30 a.m. and, for 30 minutes, run up and down the 20 flights of stairs of the building where I live. (I know, it’s a rather mad form of a minimalist-inspired exercise program I’m on as part of my training for the 10K
Sporting Life Run for Kids with Cancer.) I take a quick shower and then crash/thrash my way through the first pile of emails that have arrived overnight. By 9 a.m., I’m heading out the door to go to work, where I’ll spend most of the day on my derrière editing copy and chatting with contributors, PR reps or members of our editorial and advertising teams. I usually head out by 7 p.m.—provided there aren’t any events to attend. So, how about if I describe a typical—but delightfully untypical—day for me at New York Fashion Week? Here’s how one day went…
P.S. The symbols “!!??$#&$,” are code for a mini-meltdown moment when my cortisol levels soared and I muttered—or at least wanted to mutter—a burst of colourful language.
6:30 a.m. I got up and wrote a blog about the time I spent backstage at
Victoria Beckham the day before. Inspired by Guido Palau’s declaration that “natural hair is very much a trend of the moment,” I decided to leave my
bed-head hair as is.
7:45 a.m. It was raining—not a light mist but a downpour. I thought I’d catch a cab to my first stop—a press preview of the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s upcoming
Punk: Chaos to Couture with Andrew Bolton, Lauren Santo Domingo, Riccardo Tisci and Anna Wintour—but this turned out to be “magical thinking” since every cab was taken. I darted to the nearest subway entrance and took the first uptown train that would get me going in the right direction. I got lost. Twice. When I eventually surfaced at street level, I made my way to the nearest store to buy a super-cheap umbrella. (It was a little late for that, as I was already soaked.)
8:45 a.m. I arrived at the Met looking like a drowned rat; Anna Wintour, however, looked impeccable.
!!??$#&$ Unfortunately, Andrew Bolton was just finishing up his remarks.
!!??$#&$ Undeterred, I approached The Costume Institute’s curator for a quick interview. We talked about the punk ethos and how it’s all about seeing beauty where others only see ugliness. “Like today’s weather?” I asked. “Oh yes,” he answered. “I love it when it rains. It’s so beautiful and melancholic.” What a punk!

The Costume Institute’s Punk: From Chaos to Couture runs from May 9 until August 11, 2013. Images courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

9:15 a.m. I had 15 minutes to get to The Row’s presentation in some tony Upper Eastside townhouse that the twins had rented and decorated for the occasion.
Did I make it? Read on!