The 8 People You Meet at Every Fashion Week Party

She’s on her third party of the night, and she’s got four shows tomorrow. Somehow, she doesn’t even look tired. Or maybe dark circles just look chic on her. Guess that’s why she’s the “It” girl and you’re not.

He’s run out of people to text and is asking the PR intern at the door if she “knows who he is.” This poor fellow is stuck in a nightlife ouroboros: The more (and more loudly) he insists upon his insider status, the more he proves that outside is right where he belongs.

Armed with a Notes-app list of fluffy questions — “If you were a shoe, what kind would you be?” — she’s diligently recording interviews in voice-notes that are sure to be drowned out by the ntss ntss of the DJ booth. Feeling generous? Ask her about what she’s wearing — she spent a lot of time thinking about it.

Arrived at 9:30 p.m. with a hard out at ten. Just did their fourth TikTok Q&A of the night, not a single question of which was about the project they’re currently promoting. But on the record? They’re having so much fun!

“Heysorrycan’ttalkrightnowsobusythisweekiscrazywaitsorrywhoareyouwith?”

He “takes photos” but isn’t the hired photographer. He’s “friends with the designer” but wasn’t at the show. What does he do for work? Who cares? The model-influencer he’s been DM-ing for the past three months just walked by.

The person spending twice as long as everyone else on the step-and-repeat? That’s that “content” “creator” you muted last year. Despite your best efforts, that perky, grating voice remains inescapable. At least for the rest of the evening.

Between fielding texts from friends at the door, they’re queuing up banger upon banger — Y2K pop hits, indie-sleaze anthems, that song from The Idol if they wanna show everyone they “get it.” Once the party really gets going, Azealia Banks’s “212” is inevitable. The list won’t save you, but the DJ just might.

Illustrations: Laura Callaghan