Sooooooo, I need to return to Florence. I was there for almost half a year last year. Easily the best summer ever. Its going on a year since I have been back. I left in turmoil, and I want to return the same way.
I was there during Jersey Shore, and they were &((*& everywhere. It was ridiculous because you couldnt go to a club without them showing up. Whenever I rode my bike into town I would somehow get caught up into their filming entourage and they would take up the entire street. I hated it so much! Thankfully, they werent there that long.
When I arrived I didnt speak Italian. However, I eventually learned it fairly well thanks to my pseudo bf. He didnt speak English so it was up to me to learn Italian in order to communicate. Dont ask.
So, Im going to post this thing I wrote that was printed in the Florentine which is the English newspaper there. It was a fairly humerous/ embaressing story that took place during Pitti Fashion Week. So… Here goes:
I was lucky and sly enough to get past the ropes at the Rodarte event. This was their first haute couture collection, and I was dying to see it up close and personal. Unfortunately, I had no press pass to get me in easily, but this never stopped me from getting into exclusive events during the Paris haute couture season.
I managed to swindle the PR girl into thinking I was a buyer of an imaginary company. I told them a fake name and that I did not have an invitation because my boss arranged for me to go at the last minute. The next thing I knew, I was walking through a maze of an incredibly structured collection, with a glass of champagne in hand.
I walked through its entirety and continued into the courtyard of the party, where I saw Kirsten Dunst sitting with an editor from Vogue! I didn’t want to be a complete loon and ask her for a picture so, I made friends with a stylist who was trying to do the same. Unfortunately, we never got the picture with Kirsten. I then texted a friend to come and she made it in with some trepidation after posing as a buyer, too. We stayed and gobbled up watermelon cocktails and champagne for a good hour.
At one point, a short American man with a mustache asked her for a light. She gave it to him and they started talking. It turns out that he was working for Rodarte. Before I knew it a familiar face walked up to ‘mustache man’ and they start talking. My friend then turns to the new arrival and asks if she works for Rodarte as well; I nearly collapsed because she was talking to one of the DESIGNERS.
Moral of the story: Do not crash fashion events with people who do not know their Rodarte from their Roberto Cavalli!
So… yeah, I was pretty shocked considering the girl claimed to know who the brand was… I guess not.
I plan on visiting Florence soon once I get paid so I can buy my tickets via the horrible (cheap) airline known as RyanAir! I miss breaking into, and running around the Four Seasons pretending its my private villa.