Tuesday was the busiest and most memorable day ever, even if only because I MET JOHANNES HUEBL, which still makes me break into caps lock every time I write it. May was out with Maartje Verhoef all day and Peggy and I went to the Lincoln Center for breakfast and had a backstage look at the Noon by Noor show, and afterwards sat front row at the show. It wasn’t the most extravagant show out there but the clothing was certainly very wearable, and every experience counts.  Next was the Jenny Peckham show that I was very excited about. Jenny Peckham makes gorgeous dresses that make any girl’s heart beat faster because of the high princess-factor.

Benches were standing ready in an intimate hall in the Meatpacking District and we were shown to a front row seat, a first for me. I have been lucky enough to enjoy the experience during Amsterdam Fashion Week but never in New York. And, if I may speak like a rookie for a second, wow you can see the clothes so much better from there. Anyhow, the show was as expected, full of feminine, extremely beautiful, very red-carpet worthy and in the words of Peggy “very well made” clothes.

Afterwards we ran out the door to grab a taxi back to the Lincoln Center because we had tickets to the Naeem Khan show, another one that I was looking forward to. The collection was impressive with theatrical dresses and, as always with his clothes, very Oscar-worthy. At Jenny P and Noon by Noor, we sat with our noses in the clothes, but here we were stuck in the back row, and it wasn’t very easy to see but okay, luckily we have style.com for this kind of thing.

After Khan we jumped back in a taxi for our next appointment, a re-see at DvF. During a re-see you go to the brand’s showroom or head office to have another look at the showed collection, because a show only lasts around 10 minutes and the clothes whizz by in seconds. All items were hanging ready at the DvF-headquarters for us to feel and admire, and we got to see some other pieces. You only see a part of the season’s collection on the catwalk , only the top pieces and the most extravagant items. Buyers get to see the entire collection during a re-see to make a selection for the stores that they buy for.

And then it was almost 5pm, so we hopped in a taxi to our loft and I got ready (while sharing a refreshing beer with May) for the last part of the evening, a high heeled evening with our friend Nish. I already introduced Nish to you in the previous story about Johannes, where the entire evening is detailed in colour and frills (and some of it is written in caps lock).

The next day, Wednesday is our departure day. We’re only flying at 11pm so we had the whole day, which started with the packing of the 33 pairs of shoes and uncountable items of clothing. When the apartment was a little more presentable we head off to Bloomingdales. We decided not to take a taxi for a change but to walk, through Park Avenue and all the other great New York streets, and it felt damn good. I want to live here. I must live here. Mark my words, I will live here one day even if only for a few months. Bloomingdales is gigantic and May and I decided quickly that we’d rather go and sit somewhere with a laptop to do some work, so we split up. Peggy stayed at Bloomingdales, May and I jumped in a taxi (hello, we had heels on!).

I had previously asked Nish for the best rooftop addresses to work at and he told me “Soho House. The best.” And it is, but Soho House is a private members only club with a strict door policy so the mere mortal is not never getting in. No problem Nish said, he is a member and is there every Sunday and will make sure we get in, and that calls for an OMG. Upon arrival we first got told that we could not go in because the introduction had not been confirmed. Or something like that. “I’m very sorry but I really can’t let you guys up.” Dammit. We accepted defeat, walked on to the neighbouring Spice Market for a delicious lunch with wine until we got the What’sApp from Nish “done”.

And done is done. We shovelled our food in and walked on cloud nine back to Soho House where the magic doors of the lift opened for us and took us to the highest floor. We stepped out into an oasis of r&r, with a beautiful swimming pool and Very Important types lounging around, and we had to do our very best to look as cool and natural as possible. We hardly dared to ask for the WiFi password and tried to avoid the most expensive bottle of wine on the menu. Then with laptop, wine and an amazing view over New York on the roof terrace, we felt like, forgive the cliche, the rich and famous. An incredible Fashion Week could not have ended in a better way. I will live in New York one day, one day…and I will be a member of the Soho House. Mark my words.