Some people grow up dreaming about fame and fortune. Those people are usually born stars. I'm not going to lie, in the first year of school, I was Mary (you know, the virgin one) in the nativity play. I loved having the lead. I had a little doll I held upside down for the entire duration of the play and was partnered up with a rare specimen for Greek standards, a blond boy who was given the humble part of Joseph. In the second year, having excelled as Jesus's mama, I was given the part of the evil witch in a play about an evil witch who had captured heroes from famous fairytale. Everyone else had to stand up, say two lines and sit down again. My part included walking around and saying what evil plans I had for each and every one of the captured characters. When, in the third year, I was given the part of Snow White, I rebelled. She is just not very funny, I kept saying. And I mean, I was right. I requested to be grumpy. In the after school club we did Pocahontas. I knew it would be a hard battle because lets be honest, there's a reason people have been calling me Pocahontas since 1995 and it's not my inexistent Native American roots. I cried, I begged, I was finally given the part of the raccoon. By the time I was finishing primary school, most girls in my class were secretly listening to Britney during music class and although I did love Britney, I was too preoccupied with my plan of placing a fart cushion on our old cat lady music teacher's chair. A plan that succeeded and also got me in a lot of trouble.
Why I'm telling you all this?
Because I am not the person meant to walk the catwalks of L/P/M/C etc FW. I was always destined to don high heels, red jeans and baggy tops on a cattle bridge.
And lets be honest, what better place to strut your stuff? You can wear things old enough to be affordable, you can keep the photos and then write whatever you want about them, because you're your own boss. And being the Bruce Springsteen of my life is only second best to Bruce himself actually being the boss of my life. (sometimes, in my head, he is!)
On a cattle bridge you can play with your jewellery (say hiiiii Ferdinando)
you can do your own hair...
and even smell your pits
Now I know that some catwalks go pretty extreme with their hair/make up/shows but not many have the luxury of graffiti that looks you in the eye!
taraaaa. catwalks 0 - cattle bridge 100
plus, (you know where this is going don't you?)
On a cattle bridge you are allowed to change into flat shoes to...
You saw that coming didn't you?
Have you ever seen me landing though?
ha! Blogging twist! Aren't I full of surprises?!
flat shoes: office