Talking of greenhorns, I find myself again at this stage of my life being one in the razzmatazz world of fashion-saying that word with certain Italian swag - fashion.
Okay, so talking about greenhorns; I am spurred by the ardor of recently graduating from the university and hungry to do all those things I have seen from afar in the recline of my sofa opposite that magic box called the T.V. From afar I have I longed to tread those so called sacred grounds of the Nigerian creative industry one of which is the fashion industry. The thing is that I am not a designer, heck I can’t even tell satin from velvet yet that’s not to say that I have not been grounded on the basic rules of dos and don’ts - so glad I am not a guy because the ladies have it hard – but I must say that I was a bit of trouble finding the were I fit till I got the opportunity to P.R for a rising fashion label – must admit I am tempted to do small advert (sniggering).
Therefore my to do list became to learn the fashion lingua franca, understanding Aba boys and tailors – some of those tailors are a true test of ones patience – fashion events, people, etc. but my ‘palava’ today has top do with a certain demeanor I have observed characterizes some Fashionistas. Before I go further I must say that I am the new guy, the greenhorn with an opinion so I may be wrong; so I’ll let the experts be the judge.
The demeanor I speak of to be direct is snubbing. It may be a Lagos thing with all the affluence and the need to show whose boss on the one hand or it could just be an after effect of the stress in this city that never ever, ever seems to sleep. Even the nicest guy would become a grouchy ogre if care is not taken but still my short time in this business has been a mix of applause, with a reoccurring shallow gaze, blank faces when you smile, then with nice comments and then later with absolute battery on blogs, and then misguided eyes from living human beings faces to the screens of their lifeless blackberries as if the world revolved around only them.
Well just to rub it in, my efforts to becoming a socialite today saw me attending one of those elite fashion fairs for networking , window shopping and just plain gawking at those gorgeous people whose skin seemed never to have felt the harsh rays of the Nigerian sun. So I am standing in the middle of the market and I am shocked there is no cajoling or a least an inviting glance when I seemed particularly interested in an item – well to be fair I was starring a female bag so I guess that doesn’t count – but still a customer without a buyers attention to me seemed like bad marketing but again its just a greenhorn’s opinion.
A certain “lady of cultural in betweens and political contradictions” of whom I am an aficionado of, spoke of the press being to quiet because of capitalism; so for opening my big mouth, I have a defense. My defense? I blame it on love, a love for my new found muse: fashion.
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