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ESD MAGAZINE
By: Laura Solla
Spoiler: Alicia Keys was right.
The clock struck 8:00am as I boarded a flight heading to New York. I had never been to the Big Apple (though having watched Sex And The City at least 8 times, I could easily pass for a New Yorker), let alone hailed a yellow cab - one of those little things that excited me - en route to New York Fashion Week. Ahead of me lay 52 hours of fashion, Starbucks' almond milk chai teas, and a sore neck from craning to see skyscrapers and giant LED screens. That said, apologies to Carrie Bradshaw, but I wasn’t doing it in 12-centimeter Manolos.
But anyway, to continue with this rather unusual chronicle, I'll proceed chronologically. At 1:00pm Eastern Time, I landed at JFK. There, even the least observant mortal would have noticed the bustle of such a diverse throng of passengers: some lost, glancing without much understanding at the arrows and signs unsuccessfully indicating the exit, others, with much less luggage and presumably in much more of a hurry, walked determinedly without lifting their gaze from their latest iPhone. And there I was, in the middle, following some and others, a bit halfway between an ordinary tourist and someone for whom everything, as much as I had dreamed it, felt familiar.
In the midst of this déjà vu and almost by inertia, I arrived at my hotel in Central Park, dropped my two carry-on bags (one, bursting at the seams, the other, empty in case my planning allowed for a fruitful and unexpected shopping spree), and set out to explore the city enjoying its characteristic street style. Because when you set foot in New York, you know you couldn't confuse it with any other city in the world; only there do models roam in their natural habitat, designers stroll down Fifth Avenue as if it were nothing, and the luxurious windows of the world's most prestigious brands intermingle with crowded souvenir shops flaunting 'I Love NY' signs.
And so the afternoon passed between fashion and coffees, and it was time to sleep in the city that never sleeps. The next morning - having survived the jet lag - I set out to tackle all the trends I had spotted the day before. My first mission was to find sunglasses that would hide my dark circles a bit, and I succeeded with flying colors. I had noticed that the most repeated models were aviator shapes, acetate frames, and mirror effect lenses, so I got myself a pair that met my requirements and headed to my next stop: finding a red scarf to add a touch of color to my otherwise dull look (understand me, a gray tracksuit and a long, black, woolen jacket can be greatly elevated with the right accessories). Thus, with my scarf around my neck and my 'I think I'm famous but not really' glasses on, I was more than ready to be enchanted by the sweetness of the most awaited week in the fashion industry.
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Hours later, the show for which I had endured eight hours of flight (to put you in context, planes are not exactly my preferred mode of transportation) began, and it truly was worth it. Puma kicked off NYFW at the historic Park Avenue Armory with its "Welcome To The Amazing Mostro Show.” There, personalities like Emily Ratajkowski, Ashley Graham, Becky G, Hari Nef, Palomo Spain, and Caleb McLaughlin (among many, many others) gathered in the front row to immerse themselves in the magical world that the German giant had envisioned alongside PUMA x F1's creative director, A$AP Rocky, who directed and starred in the Mostro campaign launched just before the show.
And I say show because it cannot be called anything else when a set features a roller coaster, a Ferris wheel, and a carousel spinning and lighting up while models paraded with new proposals for the coming season. A whole amusement park designed for enjoying fashion like children, because that's what it's for. After the show, the second parade of the night began: the hundreds of guests dressed in the brand's apparel, each in their own style, heading towards the mandatory after-party. It was like a master class in style, or rather street style, from which I took good note. Lesson number 1: tracksuits are the new jeans. Lesson number 2: embrace everything 'oversize'. Lesson number 3: absolutely any item, if worn with confidence, can work. Lesson 4: the 90s have NOT gone away. And lesson 5 and last: in fashion, nothing is forbidden.
© Puma - NY Fashion Week via Getty Images
Puma - NY Fashion Week via Getty Images
With this premise in mind and after the party, I returned to my hotel feeling like I had entered a parallel universe I didn’t want to leave. But everything comes to an end and, although the emotional hangover still lingered the next morning, it was time to head home. I decided to show up at the airport in a total Puma look (perhaps to make the return to reality a little less harsh), and at 8:00am Spanish time - the time change took its toll - my plane landed at T1 of Barajas with my bags, now both full, brimming with new acquisitions we'll talk about in future issues.
But the adventure didn’t end there... not by a long shot. After stopping by home to unpack and repack and take one of those well-deserved endless showers, it was time to head to Valladolid: the Goya Awards' red carpet was just a couple of hours from starting. But, that’s a story for another time. The show must go on..
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