My Adventure at Calvin Klein

“Kate! Kate! Kate! Over here! Kate!” There was a mob of photographers—unlike any I’ve seen all week—surrounding the sidewal
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“Kate! Kate! Kate! Over here! Kate!” There was a mob of photographers—unlike any I’ve seen all week—surrounding the sidewal
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“Kate! Kate! Kate! Over here! Kate!”

There was a mob of photographers—unlike any I’ve seen all week—surrounding the sidewalk at Calvin Klein yesterday, and they were screaming my name.

Of course they weren’t shouting for me; they were shouting for Kate Bosworth.

We both happened to arrive at the exact same time, and when I hopped out of the cab, I was engulfed in a sea of puffy photographers' coats.

The next thing I knew, ladies in black were hurrying me into a building. When I got inside, I realized I had somehow become entangled in Kate Bosworth’s entourage, and the four of us were being led backstage.

I saw models, makeup and hair, and quickly decided that I needed to get back to the front of the house before I was found out.

So I scurried out a side door and ended up on the runway. Phew! I plopped down in my seat and watched the rest of the guests trickle in.

Bill Cunningham sat in front of me, and the woman next to me exclaimed, “Bill! I saw you the other day on your bike. How do you do it? How do you get around on your bike with all the ice on ground?” He turned around and chuckled, “I’d be nowhere without that bike!” (Note to self: Need to exercise. If Bill can do it, so can I!)

The show started 40 minutes late. As anticipated, Francisco Costa showed us minimalist designs for fall; shades of black, gray and white dominate the collection, with a little cobalt blue thrown into the mix. There were a lot of shifts and some killer boots.

Jac opened the show; Sigrid closes. And seeing Kristen McMenamy walk was the highlight of my fashion week life. When her long, silver hair turned the corner, someone gasped, “Is that Kristen?”

The collection was simple, sexy and signature Costa.

I left the show, struggling through the herd of photographers, and stopped at the corner of the street. I look to my left: oncoming traffic. Then I look right: Carine Roitfeld is standing beside me. I watch her pose for a picture and cross the street.

Sorry Kristen, Carine just trumped you.