I know it has been a while since I last posted, but now that the whirlwind of the 2008 and 2009 Fall Winter New York Fashion Week has finally subsided, I can return to my regularly scheduled programming. I could write about the shows, but truthfully, there is not much to say. My interest in the spectacle is steadily fading. I might even sit the next season out entirely. At this point, I am content to stay home and wait for my look books to arrive.
The parties, on the other hand, were some of the most unforgettable experiences I have ever had. I might write more about those soon.
For the past two weeks, I was going so hard that I think God had to step in and force me to slow down. It was as if He had to remind me that I am not as indestructible as I imagine myself to be while dancing on tables and screaming at the top of my lungs. I woke up Friday with a throat so sore I genuinely thought I had tonsillitis and might need to visit the emergency room.
Thankfully, having doctors in my life comes in handy. A few prescriptions, some vitamins, a bit of Theraflu, and a few other unnamed remedies later, I was feeling right again by morning. Of course, my foolish self decided I had to make up for the Friday I missed. And now, once again, here I am, sick.
Still, I cannot bring myself to care. Hearing Prince Paul spin for my friend Jamila’s birthday made everything worth it. Even a sore throat and a runny nose feel like a small price to pay.
Last night, after a five hour brunch with friends — yes, five full hours — I told myself I would stay in and rest. I curled up to watch an episode of The Wire, and afterward flipped over to the fiftieth annual Grammy Awards just as Kanye West began his performance.
What I saw moved me. His tribute to his mother with Hey Mama brought a lump to my throat, while his performance of Stronger, featuring Daft Punk’s first appearance on American television, made me get up and dance in my living room.
Say what you will, but I have deep respect for Kanye West’s commitment to spectacle. His ability to fuse fame, grief, and performance into something emotionally raw and electrifying is a kind of genius.
GVG
~going big cuss I never stay home~
HEY MAMA
STRONGER
No comments:
Post a Comment