Right up there with my rushing to Calvin a few seasons ago only to realize upon arriving backstage that I'd left my camera at home "debacle," is last week's Margiela "blunder" in Paris. Well, actually, my NON-Margiela blunder. I thought it was Margiela. The PR girl told me it was Margiela. It looked like Margiela. How could it not have been Margiela? Well, I'll tell you how.
Apparently, upstairs was some sort of gallery exhibition (nonetheless cool) that I wandered in to. Margiela was downstairs. It wasn't until later in the day listening to these two ridiculous queens (wearing bow-ties and high-water trousers with patent leather shoes and no socks) yammering on about Margiela, that something clicked. "Wait a minute, that's not what I shot at all."
Retarded, I know. So here's a few shots from some gallery installation I stumbled upon during men's fashion week that took place in the same building as Margiela, at the same time as Margiela, however, was not Margiela. Oh well, what're ya gonna do?





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