Tuesday was, I think, the busiest and most memorable day so far, if only for the fact that I JOHANNES HUEBLE HEB ONTMOET, which I can still only talk about in capslock. May was out all day with Maartje Verhoef and Peggy and I went for breakfast to Lincoln Center for a backstage look at Noon by Noor and then we took front row seats for the show. In terms of fashion, it wasn't necessarily the biggest spectacle out there but certainly very wearable and well, every experience is one. Next was the show of Jenny Peckham, which I was really looking forward to. Jenny Peckham makes beautiful dresses that make every girl's heart beat faster because the princess factor is always high.

In an intimate room in Meatpacking, the benches were ready and we were taken to a spot in the front row, which was a first for me. At Amsterdam Fashion Week, I have had that pleasure before but never in New York. And, if I may speak like a schoolgirl for a moment, wow, you can see the clothes so much better then. Anyway, the show was as expected and hoped very feminine, very beautiful, very red carpet worthy and, according to Peggy, “very well made.”

Afterwards, we sprinted out the door to find a taxi back to Lincoln Center because we were going to the show of Naeem Khan, something I was also really looking forward to. The collection was impressive with theatrical dresses and, as always with him, very Oscar-worthy. We were up close to the clothes at Jenny Peckham and Noon by Noor, here we were placed in the back row which made the view quite poor, but well, luckily we have style.com for that kind of thing.

After Khan, we got back in the taxi to the next appointment, a reseat at DvF. During a reseat, you go to the showroom or headquarters of the brand to view the shown collection again, because a show lasts only about 10 minutes and you see each piece pass by in just a few seconds. At the DvF headquarters , all the pieces were ready to be touched and admired by us and we could also see the other pieces. Because what you see on the catwalk is just a part of the entire new collection of the season, only the top and most striking pieces get a spot on the runway. Buyers see the whole collection during the reseat and can make their selection for the stores they are buying for.

And then it's almost 5pm, we get back in the taxi to our loft and I get ready (together with May and a beer) for the last part of the evening, a night high on heels with friend Nish. I introduced Nish to you in the story about Johannes, and the course of that evening is also described in vivid detail (and sometimes in capslock).

The next morning, Wednesday, is departure day. We don't fly until 11pm so we still have the whole day which we start by packing the 33 pairs of shoes and countless clothes. Once the apartment is somewhat presentable, we head to Bloomingdales as a trio. For a change, we don't take a taxi but walk, and walking along Park Avenue and all those other beautiful big New York streets feels damn good. I want to live here. I must live here. Mark my words, one day I will live there, even if it's just for a few months. Bloomingdales is gigantic and soon May and I decide that we would rather sit somewhere with a laptop to work and so we split our ways there. Peggy stays in Bloomingdales, May and I get in the taxi (yes hello we are wearing heels we can't keep walking).

In the meantime, I had asked Nish what he thought was the best rooftop to work for a few hours to which he says “Soho House. Definitely the best.” And that may be true, but Soho House is a private members-only club with a rather strict door policy and the ordinary mortal never gets in. No problem, he says, he is a member, goes there every Sunday and arranges for us to get in and that calls for an OMG. Upon arrival at the door, we are initially told that we cannot go in because the introduction had not yet been confirmed. Or something. “I’m very sorry but I really can’t let you guys up.” Dammit. We take our loss, walk to the adjacent Spice Market for a delicious lunch and wine until Nish is back on WhatsApp with the message “done.”

And done is done. We scarf down our food and dash back to Soho House where the magical doors of the elevator open for us and take us to the top floor. There we step out into a kind of oasis of calm, a beautiful pool, only Very Important types lying around and we have to do our best to come across as cool and natural. We barely dare to ask for the wifi and order one of the most expensive bottles of wine on the menu to come across as well as possible. With laptop, wine, and a view over New York on the rooftop of New York, we really feel, forgive me the cliché, like kings. An insane fashion week could not have ended better. And one day, one day I will live in New York and be a member of Soho House. Mark my words.