Triumph of the Frump

My recent lack of social activity has killed my desire to dress in anything but track pants and sweaters. The part of my brain that was once so focused on style and fashion has temporarily (hopefully only temporarily) gone on hiatus and been clouded over by thoughts of warmth and comfort. You would think that when I was forced to trek downtown for my Toronto LG Fashion Week volunteer meeting that I would have wanted to get into the spirit and dress like I could possibly belong in the scene. Buuuttt comfort won the wardrobe battle once again and so I headed to King St West dressed in my runners, lulus, a gray cardy and a patterned pashmina. When I pulled up to the building I cannot tell you how lost and out of place I was. Everyone was dressed to impressed in their jeans and boots, their toques and blazers. I could feel the fashionistas eyes burning into me and scourning me for my outfit choice. It wasn't until we got our assignments that my confidence got a boost. Despite having applied late, I somehow managed to land a position working backstage. At first I was oblivious to the importance of this position until we backstagers were seperated from the group--apparently "everyone" wanted this "coveted" position, we were told, but only a few of us were selected for certain reasons (who knows what they were) After hearing the job description and learning that, despite the fact that the position is hectic, I would be working one on one with all the models and designers, I became overwhemlingly excited. I could feel the shopping-addict, fashion magazine-lover and fashionably concerned citizen bubbling up in me all over again. Step aside, doubting fashionistas, looks like the frump came out on top this time.