Mirror Image

It was nearly 4 p.m., I just wrapped up the Tyler Rose interview, turned around and saw Vogue magazine's most famous editor - second only to Anna Wintour - Andre Leon Talley was right behind me, wearing a pinstriped suit. (Much like this one, but I didn't take this pic.) Remember, how he dressed Jennifer Hudson in that Oscar de la Renta gown at the Oscars last year? Mr. Life with Andre... Ok, you get it?! Big fashion deal!
I nodded. He nodded. And then, he spoke:
"Does that young man work for Peter?" he asked very laissez-faire like.
"Yes," I said, like a school girl "He seems to be nice, he grew up in Blue Bell which is outside Philadelphia. I work for The Philadelphia Inquirer."
"Really?" he says.
We make idol chat. I ask him if he's waiting for the Calivin Klein show to start. He is. I tell him I don't have an invitation.
"You'll get in," he says. "The Philadelphia Inquirer is important."
Maybe he's forgotten what it's like to try to get into shows. Anyway, another reporter joins me from the Times Picayune. She doesn't have an invite either. Then, she, Andre and I saunter to the Calvin Klein show giggling at the oddities of Fashion Week. His fur stole swings behind him. "You'll get in," he says. He's positive.
Now I know this is really a long shot. I've only been invited to the show once and I've been covering Fashion Week for seven years. The line is carried darned near everywhere in the area. But, oh well. Hey, maybe if I come in with Andre, there is a chance I could slide in and stand to the back.
We get to the door.
The black clad clipboard banchees part and usher Andre in. But before he goes in, he stops and introduces me. "This is Elizabeth Wellington; She's from The Philadelphia Inquirer"
"We'll be glad to help her out. No problem," the list-keeper says.
Then she mumbles to me rather saltily, "You still will have to check-in. He doesn't decide who gets to go into the show."
Game over.
You know the rest, I get to the front. The clipboard women scan the list. I'm not on it.
"But I went last year," I said. "I got an invite. I'm sure it's at my desk and I didn't get it before I left."
Then came the brush off: Oh Well. Too Bad. Here is the fax number for you to request your ticket next time. No, we won't let you in standing. Have a nice day.
Andre has been inside for a minute.
What a diss.
Oh Well.
There is always Style.com