It’s baby’s first New York Fashion Week, so while Dan and Marci are stoic, grizzled veterans (just kidding, have you seen their skin?!), I am sending everyone I know jittery Snapchats of me in an ankle-length leather skirt with the caption “too much?”
Of course, because it's my first time, I’m absolutely petrified. Spiraling neurotic, irrationally scared.This always happens. The first time I tried to book a food truck for an event, it took me four drafts of an email and about three hours of windup for a transaction that was settled in less than 200 words. But what if I said the wrong thing? What if they expected me to know about that city's food truck ordinances? (Pro tip: Food trucks know about food truck ordinances.) The first time I went to spin class, I couldn’t get my shoe to clip in, and I almost walked out of that class because I was afraid of getting yelled at. (Pro tip: Instructors yell at you, but not for that.) The first time I negotiated my salary? You don’t even want to know.
The upside of my neuroses is that everything goes better than expected almost all the time! The downside is that I’m pretty sure I’m prematurely aging myself by worrying about standing in the wrong spot backstage and being banned from Fashion Week forever.
I know, deep down, I can do the damn thing; it just takes some time.
But in the meantime, if you do need some help believing you’re a Capable Person, can I suggest this course of action, from Rigbythecat on "I Refuse to Get Dressed Up for Work, And It Has Been the Best Possible Decision"?
And if you, like me, are gagging on the sheer number of wedding and engagement photos in your social feeds (because in addition to being NYFW, it's also ~*that time of year*~) remind yourself of NotMotherTeresa's perfect comment on "Dating with a Chronic Illness Has Helped Me Figure Out Exactly What I Want in a Partner":