September 15th, 2005

(no subject)

One hundred plus people were at the Ramada Inn today to witness my runway debut. After mass loads of tea to get through the night with Bunny, a five bottle snag from the wine hole in Zuppa's walls, and dozens of signs raided from the construction site down the street which we had explored numurous times like a playground, the Couture Trash dress was finally complete.

The night was spent slaving away for hours over the dress, but the mission wasn't even close to over. The next task was managing to get it into a cab when we were already ten minutes late to be there. After having to sweet-talk the cab driver to even let us in his cab with such a monstrosity (the dress included a sledgehammer, too, which I understand could be a little indimidating), we finally talked him into it with Bunny's friendly persuasion. And in order to accomplish such a task, Bunny spent the ride crushed under a mass of heavy paper, metal, and duct tape.

When we got there, I immediately sent Bob to fetch me a large coffee, which I poured out completely and replaced with one of the bottles of wine we'd stolen from Zuppa early that morning. There was no way I was going to be able to walk down a runway in a dress made of road signs without laughing unless I was piss-ass wasted. So at ten thirty in the morning I was sipping fancy wine from a large Starbucks coffee cup, on my way to the end of the runway.

And like fate, as it came my turn to walk up the steps and hit up the runway with my attitude problem, Madonna's 'Like a Virgin' came on through the speakers and I figured I was drunk enough to be ready. I swung my sledgehammer over my shouler and prepared for the most legendary walk of my life, when I was suddenly burdened with my very first fashion-show-technical-difficulty: We hadn't exactly programed stairs into the making of the dress.

So I couldn't get up the stairs. I figured it wasn't that big of a deal considering when I finally did make it up them and put an end to the long moment of nothingness on stage, I made up for it by slamming my sledgehammer down on the stage at the end of the runway and stealing the show in a fit of applause. The show was mine only until a girl completely covered in about eight feet of coke cans in both directions stole the spotlight, but such a snag was to be expected by everyone hanging out backstage. Afterwards the director of Fashion Design approached Bunny and I and told us she wanted the dress to be in the major fashion show in November, but we have high doubts the dress will stand that test of time.


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