Fashion
Show
“I base most of my fashion
taste on what doesn’t itch.” –
Gilda Radner
Paris, Milan, Madrid we are not,
but I still love my burgeoning little city. Culturally
adolescent, San Diego is not “leading the
world” in any significant fashion trends…
yet. I recently attended a fashion show downtown.
Thanks to television, I’ve become familiar
with the Fashion Show Formula: 1 part hot chicks,
2 parts sick beats (that’s good music for
those of you over 50), 2 parts designers, 3 parts
eager customers. The ingredients were there, but
after the evening I had, I am convinced that though
there may be a butterfly at the end of this process,
my city is still a caterpillar in a comfortable
cocoon.
I knew something fun was brewing
when email poured in from various friends, either
inviting me to this Wearhaus event or
checking to see if I would be there. (Diva Tip:
When people from more than one circle of friends
invite you to the same event, there is no
good reason for you to miss it.) Friday night,
downtown, this was definitely off the path most
beaten by my party shoes. Nevertheless, I dressed
in feathers, donned my new Fetish by Eve bag,
and grabbed my man. I had only heard of the venue
the week before, and though I am familiar with
its location, for some reason I failed to grasp
the reality of its proximity to the ballpark –
the evil, traffic-inducing, crowd-causing, street-blocking,
bitch of a ballpark.
The gala was being held at Ventanas
restaurant & bar, located on 7th Avenue between
J and K Streets. The playpen for baseball fans
is one block away. Two days earlier, I had picked
up a game schedule to assure that I would NEVER
be downtown while anything “Petco”
was in progress. This evening, I failed to utilize
my resources. Punished for my oversight, we sat
waiting in masses of cars inching their way downtown.
Shit. After complaining, merging, honking,
letting out heavy sighs, and a few harrumphs,
I happened upon a scalper who was leaving in his
shiny silver Porsche. Bingo. 10th and Market was
close enough to 7th and K, but I still had to
torture David with my bitching: “$25 to
PARK!? Are they crazy? Who would pay so much money
to park their car down here?” He was kind
enough not to remind me that just moments before,
I had been willing to pay $15.
Glad to be finished with the fiasco,
we arrived at Ventanas and paid $10 to enter.
Boutiques sponsoring the show had set up booths
around the entryway. Straight ahead was the bar,
at which two beautiful friends were waiting with
extra seats saved. Earlier in the week, Rebecca
had been working with Ventanas’s Conrad
Abundes to perfect the Barbarella martini. His
version is masterful. Looking around, I realized
this had been the location of the last Beaux Arts
Festival I attended – the old Culy Trucking
Warehouse. Memories of good times and great
parties swam through my mind as I examined the
new interior. Swanky. The lively music in the
restaurant had me bobbing my head unconsciously
– jazzy undertones and an overall Latin
vibe were laid down by Sushi, the resident DJ.
Culy, open only for special events, lies behind
Ventanas. Before leaving home, I learned via the
web that the group putting on this event -- Wearhaus
-- is a network of San Diego designers founded
by Sally Smith of “Sally Bee,” Vanessa
Salazar of “Alterwear,” Krystina Grammatica
of “Grammatique,” Julie Anstedt of
“Rambunctious Designs,” and Carman
Stalker of “Stalker Designs.” In total,
44 designers were offering their creations for
sale. The five fashionistas plan on doing at least
2 or 3 shows a year, but this was the debut of
the “Wearhaus Fashion Experience.”
For a first attempt, the lineup was impressive
– big name DJs and established performers
were happy to get involved. This sort of affair
is so deficient in America’s Finest City
that when word gets out, the community comes together
in extraordinary numbers. Every model, DJ, performer,
and stylist worked the event for free.
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