emilyrems.com

Never before have I felt more “like an East Village version of Tracy Turnblad from Hairspray, only, like, not,” then I did this past Sunday when I made my modeling debut at the Mode Merr fashion brunch at Marion’s. Angela Zampell, the mad genius behind Mode Merr, made this amazing skirt to go with the 666 top she made me for my 30th Birthday, and together, the ensemble looked like it had come right off the rack at Mr. Pinky’s! Not only was it super-amazing and glamouriffic to get all dressed and made up and fussed over by awes rockabilly chicks who actually know something about cool hair and makeup, but it was also surreal to be hanging out with local legends like The World Famous *BoB*, Little Brooklyn, and The Pontani Sisters as a fellow event participant instead of as a journalistic observer.

That’s not to say it wasn’t also terrifying, because it totally was! Just before I stepped out onto the runway, I was nervous-sweating so hard under all that tulle that my pantyhose which had been perfectly in place for the last three hours started rolling down my hips. By the time I made my first turn, they were off my ass and threatening to come down around my ankles at any moment. So I cast the packed house (including my parents and the Baroness von Pink!) my most fake confident smile, grabbed the top of the hose where they had now landed mid thigh, and shuffled casually off the runway as best I could in time to Edith Piaf. As soon as I got off stage, the other models who knew it was my first time were all like, “How was it?” and I couldn’t even front. I was just like, “It was fun! My pantyhose fell down!” And that was that until the next show at 2:30 where LCF and my work homies Callie, Dawn and Tara had secured a VIP booth at the end of the runway. That time around, before I lined up, I yanked those suckers almost up over my boobs to avoid a repeat performance of their amazing disappearing act. Maybe a little extreme, especially since I did it in front of all the other models backstage, but it seemed to do the trick. After I took my final sashay, I downed a strong libation called “The Fashionista” in one long stiff pull, then sadly went down stairs to give my hair back. I didn’t have to give the skirt back though, and that was the best part of all!

This entry was posted on Tuesday, July 24th, 2007 at 11:07 am and is filed under General. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.