somewhere over the rainbow...

   I had always dreamed of going to a Marc Jacobs show. I am such a big fan of his work, and most of my student work as a graphic designer have been mockups for his brand ( look books,invitations, etc.) I swore to myself that I would go to Marc Jacobs this season, no matter what it took. It was 6:45PM and I showed up at the armory, in the cold, looking for a way in. I tried to get in with a film crew but they told me I couldn't due to the guest list being strict. My boots soaked in the rain on the sidewalk looking at the bright lights of the Armory. I walked to the side of the building and saw a open door. I went inside, and it was backstage check in. I had never wanted to go backstage, just wanted to see one of the most influential shows of my life. I guess you could say its on my bucket list, to see a Marc Jacobs show in person before I die. I went through backstage check in, didn't work, but I saw Tavi and Bryanboy go in, excited.  I waited outside, and saw Jamie Bochert, one of my favorite models, EVER. I was too nervous ( and too cold) to go say hi to her. I found a entrance on the other side, and went right to hair and makeup, but security didn't let me in.
   Then when they were accepting invitations, I had a white piece of paper. My mind burst with excitement, and I slowly walked through. Yet they noticed the blank sheet, and denied me entry. I stood outside, watching everyone else go in. I noticed press waiting on the other side for access, so I walked there and waited. However, security said that the show had already started, and to go home. So that was it. I walked. Yet as I walked, I accomplished something in my own mind. I tried. So it was snowing, and so cold, yet I walked really fast. At a pace to some sort of music in my head. I followed the line in the pavement all the way back to my dorm on the west side. I felt like I was walking in my own M.J. show. I knew that as I was walking, about 30-40 women dressed in Marc Jacobs were walking along at the same pace. Its 7:39 AM, the day after, and just when I decide to watch the runway video, the song is "Somewhere over the rainbow". How ironic. How fucking ironic.
    People say I'm really passionate about what I do. When I tell  them I'm going to the tents at 7 in the morning, or how I ran from Bryant Park to Milk Studios by foot to catch a show, they call me crazy and ask me why didn't i take a cab. They ask me why I bothered staying outside the Armory 20 mins after not getting access. I heard the runway music. I heard it from inside the armory, outside. I guess it was my sixth sense view of the show. Too many people sweat, and fight for their voice to be heard, and would die to be in a position that I am in, to even dare to run in the cold and rain to the Armory, in hopes of seeing such a show. Even though I'm off to the tents for more shows, I know, deep down inside, that at 18, im a Marc Jacobs man. Walking past security with invitations, getting my photograph taken, writing notes while in the seats of a Marc Jacobs show just maybe that land that I heard of once in a lullaby. Maybe next season the dreams that I dream of so passionately can come true. Or maybe the season after. Maybe a few more seasons. Or the season after that. Or maybe another season. Maybe another season, then I'll be far in the sky, with the clouds behind me.  Maybe my passion is toward that place above the clouds next season. Or the season after. Maybe a few more seasons.