When we arrive at Schiphol on Friday morning, bleary-eyed from excitement and want to check in our luggage, the KLM employee says with a radiant smile, “good morning! Your flight has been canceled and you can be assisted at counter 16.”

WHAT?!

Reasonably confused and dazed, we walk to the counter and are told that our flight indeed will not fly today. “Why not?” I ask, to which the telling answer is, “it's technical.” Ok. Clear. The man who will rebook our ticket can arrange a flight that will get us to NY around 8:00 PM, but that's quite unfavorable because we will miss the L.A.M.B. show, the Monique Lullihier show, and we will probably be late for the Carine Roitfeld party at the Plaza Hotel. After some nagging and whining, we got a flight via Frankfurt and arrive at JFK at 4:00 PM, tired and broken. After customs, picking up luggage, searching for transport to the city, and finding the apartment, it's 7:00 PM when we are exhausted and have missed all the shows but just in time for Carine.

It was really cool to be there, but you know, it also made me feel a bit insignificant.

In the taxi to the Plaza where we end up at the party of NYFW, as May already told you. Walking around there felt totally unreal, among all those big names and beautiful people. It was really cool to be there, but you know, it also made me feel a bit insignificant. Just when you think you have your life reasonably well together, you stand there among the most successful, beautiful, and thinnest people on earth, and what is left of you? “Don't worry, you look great among them,” May said, and that's true. As the champagne and jet lag completely take over us, we roll into a taxi back to our fabulous Park Avenue apartment, and well, that's also pretty cool.

On Saturday, we start at 10:00 at Lincoln Center for the Lacoste show. We are placed in the Dutch corner, with Sabrina Meijer from afterdrk.com in front of me, followed by Eveline from Grazia and Sigrid Stamkot from Spits. The show is delightfully Lacoste, but with quite an exciting twist and a renewed look and feel. It's just a bit more conceptual than usual, just a bit more exciting. We like it. After that, our paths split, May goes to see backstage at Rebecca Taylor and I happily stay in Lincoln Centre to go backstage at Hervé Leger. We have lunch at Gitane and haven't exchanged a word because we were too busy praising the absurdly delicious food. We get our nails done and then go to our Park Avenue loft to write a bit and get ready for the last part of the evening, dinner at Morandi with Micha Krijger from Micha Models and her husband Sander. The evening ends with a shitload of rain (you get that with those tropical temperatures during the day) and your editors go to bed very tired and a bit tipsy but very satisfied.

Tomorrow I will tell you all about Sunday and Monday. A hint: May started dating David Beckham, Liesbeth got very close to Olivia Palermo, and we became best friends with Tommy Hilfiger.