One of my favorite things about Fashion Week is the freakshow at the Lincoln Center fountain. On any given afternoon, you’ll get about a dozen world class wingnuts who loiter around the main entrance in the hopes that some ersatz street style photographer will snap a pity pic.
They are magnificent assholes resplendent in their insanity, and I love them. I love them because they are the lunatic fringe. I love them because if Karl Lagerfeld showed up dressed like them, he would be called a genius. I love them because they are a daily reminder never to take any of this shit too seriously.
Some day, I’m going to be one of these lunatics. Some day.