Apart from the cutie boys that day at the Yellow Army Graduation party, there was Hannah Tan, Mumbai and lotsa games and activities.
It was all fun and games.
The story was a little different the week before.
It was the Malaysian-International Fashion Week organized by M‑IFA. Think of it as the Grammy Awards for fashion.
There I was, alone at Pavilion. My friends that had promised to come to the Fashion Show with me could not make it.
I was hungry, I thought perhaps a nice meal could help with the disgust that I had at that time on my friend that had missed our outing together; and a meal I had.
I thought the place was invitation only. Yet I am seeing flock of people at the place, signing up at the entrance with “Photo Kaki” credentials as media accreditation.
Much to my surprise, the show was tad boring. Boring in a way that the models looked messy. The designs were good. It was a showcase of local designers, or something. I was being pushed by people, people shooting me off and stuffs. Yes, these photographers who has got fake media accreditation shooed me off because I was a guest, and I was sitting by the stairs, minding my own business. Perhaps it was because my camera were bigger than theirs.
I got bored, not being able to enjoy the fashion show like how I wanted to, I walked around, sat the the place where I was supposed to seat, oogle at some cute guys, looking at the clueless people, looking at some of the not so well dressed guests. I kept my big camera, and whip out my camera phone, I feel more into place than the others, without the big big bulky black box thing.
I enjoyed myself, not the fashion show, albeit it could have been better.
Maybe, we can try tomorrow. Or perhaps, I am better off sleeping at home. We will see.