Fashion Week in Houston

Why didn’t anyone tell me that Fashion Week was coming to Houston?

I’m on the phone with a snobby PR person, trying to secure credentials (which means RSVPing) for myself and our photographer and the photographer is so excited because he has always wanted to shoot a big time fashion show.

When I get to the event, which was held across the street from the Galleria, I have no idea what to expect. I’m not a fashion writer but I know I can at least do a pub piece on the event so I’m armed with a small bookbag, my recorder, a stack of business cards, a reporters notepad, a pen, some lip gloss and my inhaler, just in case.

I’m on the phone with my boys as I arrive. “Well, I have to go Boo Boo. I have an interview to do,” I explain.

“What’s an interview?” my Boo Boo asks.

“Well, you know how I tell you that I write stories for newspapers and magazines?”


“Well, before I can write the story I have to go talk to people and ask them questions. Asking people questions is called an interview. If I don’t interview people I can’t write a good story. That’s why I have to go now.”

“Ok, will you call me when you’re done, Mama?”

“Sure baby.”

I walk up to the registration desk and I am given my Media pass. I walk into the tent and I see four rows of tables set up with mirrors and a bunch of skinny women are sitting there getting their hair and makeup done. I look to my right and I pause. Damn, she looks familiar.

I walk up to the woman, “Are you Naomi Campbell?” I ask her.

She looks up at me, “Yes I am.”

“Wow,” I say. “I’m Ms. Tee with THE NEWS. Would you mind answering a few questions for our paper?”

“Ofcourse not,” she tells me and smiles.

I pull out my recorder and I ask her about the state of modeling and it’s transition since she first began. I ask her about how America’s Next Top Model is affecting the modeling industry and OFCOURSE I ask her, “What have you learned from your first criminal conviction?”

Naomi looked like a regular tall chick with a little bit of a sparkle. But once her hair and makeup were done she was just as glam as she usually is and began to strut her stuff.

SHe smiles and answers politely. She gives me all the time I want and I’m grateful. I’m sure to get a great story out of this interview.

My confidence is high as I wait for my photographer to show up. I spot another Black model and I interview her as well. She tells me that she was such an ugly baby that she can’t believe she’s a model now. I can’t believe I forgot to ask her how old she was! ~sigh~

I explore more of the tent and I find a room filled with people who are messing around with the clothes and there’s a table full of accessories that I go over and check out because I LOVE accessories. I interview the woman in charge and she explains that she is the head of a team of dressers. DRESSERS actually dress the models.

“They are models,” she explains. “They don’t have time to worry about buttons and clasps and whether their clothes fit right. Each model has her own dresser and they make sure that all of the pieces for their wardrobe are perfect.”

I peek down at the DRESSERS and see one of them putting tape inside a pair of heels.

I walk back out to the make up room and spot an interesting looking lady. Actually, when I was interviewing Naomi she was sitting right next to her and when I was done she placed a gentle hand on my arm and gave me a thumbs up and said, “You did a great job. You’re going to do well.”

I interviewed her and found out that she is a former model agent who managed her own agency in New York for 13 years AND she said she is the mother of Kadeem Hardison.

I don’t know…but it seems that the entertainment industry is a small world.

I see this basketball player but I don’t know who he is. I ask my photographer and he tells me that he plays for the Houston Rockets and he’s from Africa. He’s really tall and I wait around to ask him a couple of questions. He gives me some time and I apologize but I still can’t pronounce his name. BUT, he just built a hospital in his home country which will open on July 15th of this year.

After I walk around a bit more and I meet up with my photographer and show him all of the people that I had interviewed so he could get pictures, we both have a glass of wine and head out to the main part of the tent where there are so many people milling around and I tell him, “Keep your eyes open.”

Ofcourse we’re on the lookout for celebrities or anyone who might make a good story.

When you’re a journalist and you’re at a major event, there’s no time to play, your eyes are scanning the crowd like a vulture, just hoping for someone great to fall into your line of vision.

I give the photographer the heads up and I bump into Solange. I ask her a few quick questions and he gets a picture of her. She says she’s working on a line of toys inspired by her son who is now 2 and a half.

We finally make it to the room with the runway in it. All of the seats are filling fast as people pour into the room dressed to the HILT. Everyone wants to look like a star. I’m looking like blah. But I’m feeling like a SUPERSTAR!

I walk over to the runway and smile.

I stand up straight and do my EVA THE DIVA walk down the runway, just switching and smiling at the crowd. My photographer is LAUGHING at me and taking pictures of my baldheaded self as I work the runway dodging the other people who are hanging out on the floor.

We find our place with the other media on the media riser at the end of the runway. All of the photographers and journalists are mingling, exchanging pleasantries and being very friendly to each other. I’m slinging my business cards and laughing it up. Even though it would seem that we journalists are in competition because we work for different publications, there’s an unwritten bond that we have because we share a love for the same thing. When we look into each other’s eyes, it’s like… a secret code or something. That is why I will always have love for the magazine that I worked for and all of the people I met there.

We came from the same place. I can’t wait to see what happens with all of the writers I worked with.

The show starts and my photographer is so excited. “This is a big deal for Houston,” he tells me. “Everyone who’s anyone in Houston is right here. This show usually takes place in New York, London, Paris. NEVER in Houston! These shots are going to be amazing!”

I sit down on the floor and inhale. Damn… This is great!

The show starts and Naomi walks out strutting her stuff! Everyone gives her a standing ovation and the rest of the models walk out with serious expressions, turn and walk back down the runway. I’m looking at their outfits like, “Um…I would never wear that.”

But I guess it’s because I’m not a trendy person. I’m not into the latest fashions. It just…doesn’t matter to me. The one thing I can report is…almost all of the female models are wearing shoes with thick silver heels. The shoes were all different colors but all of the heels were metallic silver.


I’m so tired now and I have two stories that are due tomorrow afternoon. I transcribed the interviews today and I thought I would have time to knock one of them out but…I can’t think. I think I just want to sleep. Sleep.