The clothes are tailored to perfection, stilettos are strategically taped, curly locks are spritzed with extra-strong hair spray, legs are slathered with fake tan and stacks of diet sodas just lie in every corner of the make-up room.
All this is what you don’t get to see while sitting in front row and flaunting your closet’s best pieces.
Fashion is, undoubtedly, the world’s most glamourous industry – but it is quite the opposite behind the ramp. It is not what you see in Project Runway, and not even close to the way it’s projected on FTV.
It is crazier, louder and ruder. It is more fashionable than expected. There is shameless nakedness everywhere. It is less glamourous.
It is the backstage scene of the Mercedes Benz Fashion Festival in Brisbane.
Staged in the Cultural forecourt of South Bank, this year’s festival touched root with a real fashion-esque feel by erecting two large white marquees beside the Brisbane river.
The electricity in the air is palpable. The presence of leggy models, top-notch socialites, well-known fashion editors of glossies and the trademark E-class Mercedes Benz car on a red carpet gives Brisbane’s fashion scene an opportunity to interact in a cerebral manner.
Inside the marquee, the tiered seating is slowing filling up, the photographers have planted their gear in front of the runway. And minutes before the lights go out and the thumping music rocks the floor beneath your feet, backstage is a chaotic mess.
Dressers are frisking through a box of shoes to find the perfect size with a ten thousand dollar dress drooping from their shoulder, waiting for the model to come back from her toilet break. The poster-size chart of the model order is being taped on the wall while the make-up artist is dabbing rouge on every beautiful cheek. The designers are frantically adjusting the drapes of the ball gown and the model has zoned out to the tunes on her iPod.
Truth be told, the process of getting a fashion show together is as hectic as planning a wedding. This is not just from the designer’s perspective, but also from the event organisers who put their heart and soul into putting a successful show together. Dealing with arrogant models, hyper designers and angry stylists is not always a child’s play. You have to be blunt and carefree, to survive a day amongst this fashionable clamor.
It is an industry of constant hard work, dedication and insomnia. Someone once said, “models are not skinny bitches, they are real people”. Without make-up, they are not as perfect as magazine covers make them seem – but they are models for a reason. There is something about their sharp facial features that makes them stand out in the crowd. They might not be “real” in the body shape perspective – but they are pretty real when it comes to food.
Models eat food. They don’t chew on celery and carrot sticks all day. They eat muesli bars, boost chocolate bars, trail mixes and Subway.
When you think glamour, you imagine the people who live it, the clothes that scream it and the make-up that makes it. Contemporary mass media has disillusioned the truth behind the unglamorous duties in the fashion industry. A team of six make-up artists would spend an average of two hours caking up a model’s face. It takes a great number of fittings to make one garment sit perfectly on a model’s lanky body. A hairdresser lives in a suffocation bubble of hairspray, and is expected to tease every hair strand to perfection.
Every season, in every fashion capital of the world, these fashion innovators sketch a new fashion setting. They celebrate colour, movement, prints and tailoring. I don’t just volunteer backstage, every year, for the clothes and shoes – I go for the vibrancy, the buzz, the energy and the last minute adrenaline rush.
It’s an experience, which every fashionista should try – at least once in their lifetime.
Image Credits: Ian Golding and Dusty Ansell
