So, here I am. Still alive, one-week-and-something later. In this “fast living” city, Swahili Fashion Week almost seems so back in time, leaving the place to other biggest and smallest events and accidents.
And the truth instead is made of my daily hours stuck to the baby (the website, of course), completing the data-entry of hundreds pictures of a show that, to be honest... I almost lost at all, being with my fingers over the keyboard and my sight fixed at the monitor since the beginning to the end!
It's 100% fine this way. Realizing now that what happened during this period is something like the materialization of one of my most recurrent daydreams since I was a kid. To stay in the backstage of a fashion happening... ok, a totally different way and place rather than expected. The coolest as well, for sure.
So nice to cross the Fashion Week up to the end. And finally getting back home tired like hell and sleeping something like 12 hours, before realizing that everything's over and has gone fine. Slowly, of course, I'm resetting my daily schedule to normality. My head (and my Blackberry) are full of new faces and names and bla-bla still to arrange. And me, trying to give a proper shape to... entropy.
The biggest pleasure? To find out that my “fashion fever” is still there and ready to bite. I filled my eyes with such different colors ans styles, and stored in my mind my most-loved designers and my must-have designs. Just taking a breath before hunting some little treasures that I'd like to store in my wardrobe.
Even if the unforgettable image that I have of my first Swahili Fashion Week is... my stillettos under and my laptop over the table! Neither I think too much about what is going to happen now.
Just enjoying the quiet time after the earthquake.