Kruse's Wednesday

– by Alexandra Kruse
As always, everything began harmlessly. Drank a coffee on the street in a pink nightie. It was gonna get hot. Then the phone started ringing and it didn‘t stop. Where should the seating tickets be sent? Was I on the list, if so, the right ones? Lots of little girls who had been honored with the job of checking the lists by phone, in hope of one day becoming the bigger, nastier girls, who get to make the lists themselves. „We look forward to seeing you,“ they lied, „we‘ll try our best.“ I believed them, and then I started losing my shit. I still had to get on AB 8211, which was leaving the Zurich airport in exactly one hour, heading for the Fernsehturm, with or without me. I needed a driver ready to risk our lives for my flight. I rewarded him with an apricot tart; the right driver means everything.

We made it, of course. My punishment was airport security. I was pulled out of the line by a 250 pound woman who discovered cause of the whole mess with her equally oversized metal detector: the soles of my Bottega Veneta sandals. She let me go. I doused myself with a bit of Eau de Sisley 2 to freshen up, and was overcome by the anticipation of everything to come. Happy landing. As if it couldn‘t get better, my driver, Paul, was already waiting for me at Tegel, sign bearing my name in hand. Paul greeted me with a brand new E-Class Benz Coupé, the gentleman of limousines. Seated comfortably in the back seat, I started sorting the 240 invitations by like, dislike, drinks, designers, sneakers, line-up and catering. The result was a merciless schedule. We stopped at Aldi to pick up a case of Champagne, just in case, and drove on to Torstrasse. Then Paul carried my 50 pound suitcase up to the fifth floor without pausing. I was ready to go. Drykorn was nice enough to invite Mando Diau and me to the Columbiahalle. Finally when „Dance with Somebody“ came on, we could throw our hands in the air and take off our T-shirts. Then the sky went black and it began to storm. I went to bed early; most likely for the last time this week. Suzy Menkes is finally in the city. And at last Fashion Week is a big deal.   ◊

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