Close your eyes.
Listen to the calls of wild birds.
Feel the wind gently blowing your hair.
Smell the sweet waft of eucalyptus leaves in the morning.
As I walked into the Great Hall at the National Gallery of Victoria (NGV) last night, a wave of nostalgia hit me. If I had not been surrounded by a sea of strangers, I would have thought I was back in the country, in the fresh alpine air. I was reminded of my home in North-East Victoria; the kookaburras laughing outside my house, perched on top of a light post and the rustling of gum trees in the school next door.
I wish all fashion shows were like the one I attended on Sunday night. The attention to detail, the illusion that you were walking into another world, was nothing like I had experienced before in the fashion world. Ballet dancers in native Australian costume roamed the foyer as people clinked their glasses and gobbled down canapés.
I snuck into the media pit with my friend, Adele. We purchased tickets a month ago, but I soon realised that I could get into the show for free with my media pass, as they had not printed the shows I obtained accreditation for on the back of my lanyard. I gave the spare ticket to my mother, who had never been to a fashion show before. It's not really her scene, but I'm glad she got to see this one.