I have ridiculous Fashion Week insomnia tonight.
I can barely breathe due to nerves. ARGHGHHGHGH. See, I love fashion week - I do. Despite all of my complaining, I love it. But this is what drives me insane - the nerves, the worrying, the planning (If BLANK happens, then I’ll do BLANK. If BLANK happens, then I’ll do BLANK. If this and that happens and I can’t get that interview, then I’ll pretend I speak only Russian and interview the models. What question should I ask this designer? How should I cover that one? I can’t ask them any more recession questions, or they’ll kill me. But I can’t NOT mention it either.
She mentions Russia. My ears prick up. She goes on:
God, that interview I did yesterday SUCKED. Why do I suck so badly? I suck, I suck, I suck, a deranged colorblind inmate could do a better job at Fashion Week than me, etc.) My brain keeps racing and despite all of my yoga breathing techniques, I just cannot make … it … stop.
Oh, the voices in her head. I hear them in my own. Wait, those the baby geese:
You know, I remember watching red carpet interviews and thinking “That’s such a ridiculously stupid question, anchor. Come ON. You can’t think of ANYTHING else?!?” But when you’re pushing and shoving to get that front row celeb or designer, it’s hard not to think - every once in a while - “dear god, that was a STUPID, boring question.” Ugh. And there’s nothing like defaulting to unoriginal blandest common denominator queries - “So! What were your influences for the Fall collection?” (barf!) - to make you feel like a Giant Pile of Suck.
So yes, this is why I sometimes become cranky and nervous about Fashion Week.
It is like Sondheim song, no? From "Company" or one of the other good ones? But I must ask: WHERE DO THESE INTERVIEWS APPEAR? On TV stations? In magazines? On the public access cable? Me never see. EVER. EEEEEEVER. Why you so nervous about tree that does not fall in forest? Relax, Yulia, go to another Barbie fashion show, get your doll and go beddie bye. It be okay. (Oh, and I sure this have NOOOOOOOOOOTHING to do with fact that it is Valentimes and you are home alone. No, no, no.)