It was quite the scene last Friday at Dzine2Show's fourth annual fashion show, "Du‘l!" Ibby Jaaber was there with a beautiful woman, wearing a suit and tie. That feisty, miniature cheerleader was there too, wearing something forgettable that nonetheless accented her figure. And senior designer Andy Turner's entire entourage flew out from California just for the event, speaking in a language many could not understand.
The event was held at the Anthropology Museum of the University of Pennsylvania to raise awareness about "the classic story of good versus evil: two forces constantly dueling in a world where they must co-exist." The line went out the door.
Of the people I came with, three were attractive and two were not - a ratio roughly in line with the rest of the crowd. It was a much worse ratio than the models, most of whom were attractive, but a much better ratio than the designers, who looked attractive in the program, but were much less attractive in real life. The photographer who stood in front of us was very ugly. But he had a big lens, and in his profession perhaps that is the only thing that truly matters.
As the girls came out, their shadows soared across the ancient anthropology walls, but Chinese statues from the Early Han Dynasty stared straight ahead. The girls strutted down the catwalk and people thought about bending them over, about how their toned legs would look, pinned against their shoulders. One girl walked down and stared right at my friend. He turned to us, heart beating. "I like that one," he said.
At intermission, an unattractive but bald senior hit on the unattractive but blond girl to his left. "Did you know that that's the second largest crystal ball in the world?" he asked, pointing to the exhibit in the center of the room, where the catwalk snaked around. No, she said, and returned to her flawed body, dreaming of life up on the runway.
Down the aisle, one short senior with curly hair exclaimed that he could not believe he was here; that he would have to leave at intermission for the sake of sanity - that this sort of thing was against his principles. But when intermission came and his friends did not leave, his principles disappeared. He sat as the lights dimmed, fidgeting his body, his eyes glancing nervously ahead.
After the show, I passed Ibby Jaaber walking along 40th Street. His shirt was untucked, but the tie was still sharply in place. His date was nowhere to be seen. He walked alone, beautiful and satisfied, dreaming of cashmere basketball shorts, of dunking crystal balls.
