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I was invited to go to a fashion show.

Nashville's version of a fashion show, anway…

Since I have been to some fashion shows in Los Angeles and New York I have to say this fashion show was like a Pinto compared to a Rolls Royce but I have to give the designer Kudos for effort. Her bathing suit designs were very cool, I must say.

I can do without going to fashion shows. It is never a high priority or even something I seek after to plant on my social calendar.

Now, Zoolander?

I can watch that a hundred times! But sit at a fashion show more than once a year? I compare it more to a dentist appointment. My dentist tells me I am the only patient he knows that almost falls asleep in his chair. Same goes at a fashion show.

But in this instance I had been put on the list and the friend I had asked to accompany already knew a couple of people who were going. The deal was I get us on the list and she gets us at her friends table.

As I was deciding what to wear I thought to myself, this is Nashville. Where flip flops are considered casual/dressy wear. I am not going to dress as I would to go to an LA fashion show. So I opted for a cream, bohemian top, jeans and of course stilettos. I styled my hair in little hippy twist backs and left my house feeling very beachy.

When I walked up to the venue I felt like I had been transplanted back in LA in the blink of an eye. Zoolanders everywhere! The women all dressed in slinky dresses and stilettos. Glowing orange like liquid carrots had just washed over their well toned bodies. Most in the place were going on a decade younger than me.

I walked up to the hostess and gave her my name. She looked me up and down the same way she began to look the list up and down for my name. At that time my friend walked up and I breathed a slight sigh of relief. My friend just moved to Nashville from California and she had opted for the casual yet classy look as well. She quickly spoke up to the hostess and said that we would be sitting at so and so's table(her friends) and that got a smile from the hostess as she quickly crossed our names off and escorted us to the table.

Smack in front of the stage. Come to find out we were sitting with a kicker from an NFL team and all the sudden to the hostess we had become worthy of a smile. My hippy twists and jeans just couldn't pull it out of her up until that point.

We sat down and soon arrived the kicker and his friend. Instantly our little table was swarmed with the glowing orange zoolander like ladies and I had to contain myself from laughing out loud at the conversations I was privy to before the start of the fashion show.

One woman, stunningly beautiful sat down and began to talk to the football player who will just be called kicker to make it easy. Anyway, she and kicker were flirting and she asked him what he did. He said, I am a kicker for so and so team. The next question out of her mouth was priceless and I have to thank her, as it released a laugh out of me somewhere deep in my gut, that actually made dragging myself out to this thing worth it. She asked, and I will say dead seriously, "if you are kicker are you still considered an NFL player?" I had to turn away, as to not embarrass her or the kicker with my hysterical fit of laughter.

The fashion show started and the flashes were going off like flash lights signaling Morse code. I tried to be enthusiastic as I could; for the sake of the creator of this line. I appreciate and respect anyone who creates and has the belief and passion to put that out into the world.

It was then that I saw someone who I had met on a couple of occasions before this. I call him the fish from finding Nemo. He can meet you or see you twenty times in one night and if you try to strike up a conversation with him, he acts like he has never laid eyes on you before; when literally you were just introduced to him, again, 20 minutes before. I didn't bother saying hello. Making eye contact or trying to have a conversation.

Just like in the fashion show…

I would have rather stayed home, rented Zoolander and Finding Nemo and called it a night.

We left the fashion show and my friend, the kicker and their friend went to dinner. That was actually lovely.

We ended up at the after party, since kicker wanted to say his hellos and we stayed for about a half an hour before calling it a night. It was a place that was on the rooftop of a building. The music was good, the night was beautiful. I stood at the balcony overlooking the city. I turned and looked at the sea of people. The wine and spirits now swaying their bodies to the music like a puppet master manipulates the strings to the puppet.

I looked at the plastic kiddy pool in the center of the roof. No, I am not kidding. It was a nice place, I guess they had the pool there as a joke. But as my friends approached, two of them being from LA as well, I joked with them that this was Nashville's version of the Standard.

The Standard is a hotel in LA; there are two locations. But the one I am referring to is in downtown LA; roof top, with a pool that everyone hangs around or in, while the music pumps and the drinks are poured. Not my scene, but I have been there on a few occasions as invited. Just like this time, I could only take it for a half hour at the most.

I went home that night content with the time I had shared with friends; grateful for the laughter and the lightness. I was also grateful for my ability to observe instead of getting sucked into an environment; grateful for adaptability to find joy in any environment.

Zoolander, a fashion show and Finding Nemo!