Hey fashionistas! Los Angeles Fashion Week just wrapped and yours truly had the pleasure of modeling in shows run by The Bureau and Art Hearts Fashion. From screaming makeup artists to goldendoodles in sparkly red coats, there was never a dull moment. Ready for the recap?
Friday at LA Fashion Week by The Bureau:
I prepared my model bag with the essentials (heels, pasties, a book, snacks, etc.) and embarked on my two hour slow speed journey through LA traffic. Several podcast episodes and Ariana Grande songs later, I finally arrived at The Bureau's venue, Los Angeles Union Station.
I glanced at the time- 5:00 pm. My call time.
"Hey, I'm here, did they give you instructions as to where to park and meet?" I hurriedly texted my agent.
"No, try street parking? I imagine you'll see the show organizers when you're there," she pinged back.
I remembered that this agent lived in New York and had probably never experienced the chaos that is downtown Los Angeles. Finding street parking by Union Station was less likely than winning the lottery, the station was huge, and how was I supposed to know who the show organizer was?
Welp, here we go.
After speaking to a security guard, I managed to find parking in a lot. I then followed the instructions from one guard to another, weaved through people, power walked for what felt like an eternity to the complete opposite side of the station, exited the building, turned a corner, and finally found the backstage entrance.
5:10 pm.
I lined up behind another model while I panted and tried to catch me breath. A lady in pink was checking models in while talking on her walkie talkie.
"Hey I have to go take care of this thing, so any other models who arrive while I'm gone will have to wait outside until I'm back before they can go in to hair and makeup...No they're not all here yet...Well they were supposed to be here ten minutes ago so that's not my problem," she said to her colleague.
"Please check me in! I just ran across the whole station to get here," I begged, sweating.
She didn't say anything and just continued to check the girl in front of me.
Please let me in, please let me in. I prayed.
The lady behind the stand looked at me and asked, "Name?"
Oh thank god.
"Hi, I'm Ambika Mathur. I'm a model."
"Designer?"
Uhhh... in the stress of getting here I had completely forgotten the designer's name.
"Err, I forgot her name, but I think she's from Dubai?"
"Zara Al Fayed. Luis will take care of you," she said, and handed me a badge.
I followed a man I presumed to be Luis.
"Hi honey, you're going to go in there through those doors, turn the corner, put your stuff down on the couch, come back out, walk across to the other side, enter those doors, and someone from makeup will get started on you," he quickly explained while speed walking.
"Okay, sounds good." I said while hurrying to keep up and tried to make a mental note of what he just said.
I passed by racks of clothing, dropped my bag on the couch, had a peek at the hair room, which was full of girls sitting in chairs waiting for their turn, and then went back and found the makeup area.
The energy! There had to be at least fifty make up artists working backstage, while Luis and other organizers were speeding in and out of the area on their walkie talkies. This section of the train station had been closed off and featured high ceilings, big stained glass windows, and Spanish tile floors. A catwalk had been prepared with a large screen and chairs lining opposite sides of the station. Music pumped as the DJ tested his set, and press were capturing photos and interviews left and right.
The next few hours passed in a slurry of makeup brushes, curling irons, camera flashes, and then it was go time. I made my way down the runway in a sparkling and sheer off-white dress with a gold crown. It felt like something Rihanna would wear, but with an angelic twist
Before I knew it, our show was over, and I stayed to watch the other designers.
I really enjoyed the show by Error, an avant garde collection with wild pieces. I don't know what the story behind the line was, but I sure would have liked to know!
Saturday at LA Fashion Week by Art Hearts Fashion:
I woke up with aching feet and calves from being in heels for hours the night before. I stretched it out in hot yoga, ate a divine plate of Thai food, and then headed to The New Mart, a historical high rise in the heart of the Los Angeles Fashion district. Tonight's event was organized by Art Hearts Fashion, a platform that brings innovative designers to the forefront of fashion week.
I could already feel the energy buzzing the second I walked in the building. I was directed down a hall, up an elevator, and to the backstage area. Holy cow. If last night's production was big, this was a whole other dimension. There were several security guards at each door to not one, but two backstage areas. One huge room had a sea of makeup and hair artists as wide as the eye could see, with a river of mega-tall and attractive male and female models walking, waiting, mingling, or being attended to. The walls had papers taped with each designer's desired makeup and hair look for their show. I could feel the equal parts stress and exciting pulsating off the MUAH (makeup and hair) team as they attempted to complicated hair and makeup styles in record speed on the never-ending river of models, all of whom needed attending to.
After a bit of confusion and waiting around, I was eventually directed to a hair artist, who proceeded to pour liters of mousse into my hair. While he was wrapping my mouss-ey hair into something resemblant of Princess Leia buns and stabbing an infinite supply of bobby pins into my hair, someone was going OFF at the makeup artists.
"WHO IS CONTOURING THE FU*K OUT OF THE MODELS?! They're RUNWAY models not DRAG queens. And GOD FORBID you highlight the tip of their nose... are YOU the one putting highlighter on their NOSE!?" a woman yelled.
After an hour and half, my hair and makeup was done, and I ventured over to the other backstage area to get into wardrobe. This area was even wilder than the makeup area!
There was an elevated runway, a swarm of media, and, to my surprise and joy, there were at least 15 adorable doggies walking around, all dressed in puppy couture. I pet my way through the group of posh pups, weaved my way through the river of press, models, and staff, and began to search for my designer.
The Arts Hearts Los Angeles Fashion Week was a large four-day event, with 12 different designers on Saturday alone. 12 different designers = 200+ models. As I continued to search for my designer, I enjoyed observing the wide range of wardrobes backstage. There were sexy black ensembles, giant couture gowns, Japanese avant-garde dresses, and everything in between.
Ooh! I found her!
I spotted my designer- Coral Castillo: Mexico City born, Project Runway finalist, Vogue featured, sustainability advocate, skilled macrame artist. It was my first time meeting her in person, and she immediately struck me as warm, humble, and really sweet. She had two racks of intricate macrame outfits that had each been pre-designated per model. Coral smiled and handed me my edgy look- a sexy high necked hand-made black bralette with long tassels, high waisted sustainable leather pants, heeled black boots, and a singular large gold accent earring.
"The story of this line is inspired by a Mayan legend from my country. In the Yucatán forest, there is a goddess called Xtabay, who was born from envy and vengeance. She's a siren in the shadows who weaves desire and lures men to their demise. The line is a journey through golden seduction, red killings, dark edginess, and back to golden seduction. You're in black- so when you walk I want you to channel dark, serious, and evil energy," explained Coral.
Yes, I get to be the villain!
I practiced my walk a couple times, and then I decided to take a peek to see what was happening in the event space. Oh wow, it was popping! There was a huge turn out, with all the guests dressed to the nines.
Anthony Rubio's matching dog and human models were working the runway, a horde of media were capturing the stylish duos, a large crowd was mingling at the bar, the DJ was bumping, and booths lined the events space, serving bubbly, little cakes, and other yummy delights. I sipped on a glass of Prosecco, met some fashion designers, caught a bit of the show, and then returned backstage.
I spent the next few hours chatting with the other models, posing for photographers backstage, and just lingering to make sure I was present in case anyone needed me. There was no sign of us going anytime soon, so I decided to check in with makeup if I needed any touch ups. A makeup artist sat me down and began re-applying lip gloss.
"I NEED ALL THE CORAL CASTILLO MODELS RIGHT NOW," a man walked in and yelled.
"Ahh! That's me!" I advised the makeup artist.
She quickly finished touching me up and then I half power-walked/ half ran in my heels back to Coral's area.
F*ck. They weren't there. I began panicking and searching through the mass of people backstage- where had they gone?! Where were we supposed to line up for the runway?! Why had no one explained anything?! Was I going to miss the show?!
I turned the corner and saw a couple girls in macrame, followed by the rest of the group.
Oh thank god. I joined the girls in line, and then it was show time.
"You're up, go!" A man whispered to me. Sultry, eclectic music filled the air. I made my way down the catwalk, channeling seductive-villain energy. I toyed with the tassels, kept my gaze dead locked in front of me, and then worked the cameras at the end of the runway. It went by so fast, but I absolutely loved each second.
After our show, I spent about another hour with the press before I could change out of wardrobe and out of those god-forsaken heels. I didn't want to wear heels for a week. I made it to the main event space in my street clothes, where I caught up with one of my friends in the crowd.
"Girlllll you were incredible! That line was gorgeous." She gushed.
"Awhh thank you! Yeah I loved the dresses... but now I'm starving. Want to go to the after-party to see what's up? Maybe they have food," I suggested.
"Let's do it!" She responded.
We went downstairs, got our VIP wristbands for the Art Hearts LAFW after-party, and then I took out my phone to call an uber to Level 8, a nightlife destination at the Moxy Hotel in downtown Los Angeles.
"Uh, oh." I only have 2% battery left," I shared.
"Sh*t, I just have 5%," my friend laughed.
We decided to use our minimal phone battery to get safely home, and postpone Mission After-Party to the next Art Hearts Fashion Week that I attend... could New York be next?!
Until next time, Los Angeles!
This was my last weekend in Los Angeles before returning to Italy, and it was such an incredible way to conclude my winter in SoCal! I adored the buzz of LA Fashion Week and loved learning about up and coming designers. Ci vediamo presto, California!
Un bacio,
Amby