JAPS at Fashion Week

Hey How are you?" I said smiling and reaching out to hug her.
 

This was our first time reporting on Fashion Week together and we were excited. I decided to let Jacquelyn Brookes in because she simply came to and asked, unlike my archenemy, Shoshanna Levy, who thought she could hate me out of my position. It all started with a nasty letter to the Editor published in the IDS. Of course I retaliated with a column of my own, but when the situation got out of control it had to be diffused by the father of my best guy friend Ari Berg, who just happened to be a lifelong friend of Shoshanna. We all lived and played in New York so Fashion Week wasn’t just work to get us through school, it was bragging rights for the summer and ammo for the best internships. So when A Black Jewish girl from nowhere claimed the title as the first Big Ten Fashion Editor to cover New York Fashion Week. There were some sore thumbs in the sea of japs ( Jewish American Princesses) at IU.

It was funny how Indiana followed us everywhere-even back to New York. Jackie was Jewish too and she was just as crazy and ambitious as me and that is why I loved her. Putting her on was one of the best decisions I made as Fashion Editor; she proved to be as loyal as a natural born sister.
"Heey," Jackie said in her thick Long Island accent."I like your dress."
"Thank you," I replied.
I picked out the dress while shopping at the Jersey Gardens Mall. It was a black cocktail length Banana Republic wrap number worn with a pair of strappy heels. It was perfect for the occasion. As I walked into the tents a security guard I knew from previous seasons caressed my arm. I looked good. Plus, I was wearing my new diamond earrings and watch. We stood there in the middle of the tents talking like old vets. I was always excited to see the Tracy Reese collection and she loved Luca Luca.
"I like your top and those jeans," I replied. Jackie always looked good in pants and had the hottest shoes.
"Have you heard anything about the Zac Posen show," Jackie asked with urgency.
"No, but I am sure we will get in."
 

Our reputations depended on getting into the Zac Posen show. It was his Fashion Week debut and there was so much hype. As the Fashion Editor, I knew getting into to this show would send us into the stratosphere of fashion reporters. We were already attending shows more seasoned journalists couldn't seem to get into, but we were gracious and never made fuss over anything -well almost never.
"I'm going to go outside and use the phone. I'll be right back," Jackie said.
Between the TV monitors showing the current show, the music and reporters the tents were loud. I had done my usual routine this season and camped out in the tents all day. My bag was full of invitations and gifts , but I had to hang out to interview the celebrities and get into shows that I wasn't invited to. It was all a part of my job. I stayed in those tents from the very first show of the season which was Kenneth Cole at 8am until the last show. It wasn't so bad, plus the complimentary Vodka and champagne kept me happy.
 

Just as soon as Jackie walked outside she was back in my face pulling on my arm.
"Guess who's here," she said dragging me out of my seat.
I followed her outside to the top of the steps that led to the tents.
"Look, it’s her," she said as she nodded her head directly in front of us to a girl in huge black sunglasses and a funny hat.
Sure enough right in the middle of the sea of journalists, wannabe models and fashionistas was Shoshanna. She was handing out the Fashion Daily Mag at the bottom of the steps.
"She looks like such a f#*cking cheese ball in disguise. She doesn't want us to know it’s her." Jackie smirked.
I stood there silent with Jackie standing next to me. We looked down on her, our faces emotionless. After about three minutes we turned around and walked inside.  Jackie and I never boasted; deep down we knew our work spoke for itself. We also knew we had to work that much harder with each new season to keep our positions on campus and in New York. spoiled japs like Shoshanna couldn't wait for a chance to dethrone us.
"They're setting up for the Zac Posen show," I told Jackie upon walking inside.
A line was already forming twenty minutes before the show. I checked out the PR Firm. It was KCD PR, the toughest PR firm at the shows. I knew it was going to be a job to get into the show, especially since we weren't invited.
"Should we use fake names?" Jackie asked. I could tell she was getting anxious.
"No," I answered her.
I scoped out where they were sending the guests who were invited and had been checked in. They were all holding a white piece of paper-the invitation- and sitting along the fountain.
"Don't look at anyone and follow me," I instructed.
I grabbed a piece of paper used for standing room only attendees at a previous show and held it in front of my chest. At the right moment, I sashayed over to the fountain and sat down. Jackie trailed behind me in the exact same way on the opposite side of the fountain. We didn't acknowledge each other. That was our M.O. We knew the forces of racism, snootiness and luck were working against us and if we split up we had a better chance of at least one of us getting coverage. We knew this without saying and that is why we were a great team. We were both Jewish, but her being white and me being Black allowed us to cover shows from Baby Phat to Sass & Bide. All of our meetings were in secret and no one back on campus in Indiana knew how close we actually were.
 

I sat there with my heart pounding. A security guard walked back and forth in front of the attendance line making sure no one like us got in. All he had to do was ask to see the front of my invitation and I was screwed. I sat there looking snotty like everyone else and one by one we were all let into the show. As Jackie and I walked into separate sides of the runway, we caught eyes and smiled.
We were in the most anticipated show of the season hosted by Sean "Puffy" Combs. My photographer and live in boyfriend, was already set up. I let Jackie cover this show. I sat back and soaked in the black sand runway atmosphere. This was the beginning of a great week.

Excerpt from Black to JAP in five years