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At Lincoln Center, one can tell the importance of a person, at least in Fashion Week terms, by the amount of paparazzi they attract. One or two cameras usually mean that someone isn't famous but they're wearing an interesting outfit. A lot of cameras mean that the subject is either the biggest celebrity in the room, or the most recent one to enter it.
And every once in a while there will be a giant amoeba of photographers, an impenetrable mass, which signifies that it's someone extremely important, someone whose photo will be worth a lot of money. In February, the supposed scheduled appearance of Matt Damon at the L.A.M.B. show, later proven to be a hoax, completely clogged up the runway and caused the show to start late. We're not paparazzi trying to sell photos, so there is no reason for us to get caught up the frenzied need to catch a celebrity on film, and yet.
This week, on our way to the Rachel Roy presentation at Avery Fisher Hall's Grand Promenade balcony we saw a huge swarm of paparazzi coming towards us. We guessed it had to be someone seriously important to the world like Michelle Obama. Then we heard the photographers yelling "Kim, over here! Kim! Kim!" and we saw that it was Kim Kardashian, attired in a fitted beige dress, looking beautiful, but with more make-up on her face than we probably go through in a year. Kim and her bodyguard whisked by us into Avery Fisher Hall, and then pushed their way through the crowd of people who'd been patiently waiting to the see the presentation.
Even though we'd never been a fan of the Kardashians, and once even posted that we were waiting for their "reign of terror" A.K.A . fifteen minutes to end, when we spotted her, we found ourselves caught up in the hoopla. We pulled our camera out of our bag and took, what turned out to be, a very badly lit photo.
When we eventually got upstairs to the presentation, there was a row of models attired in Roy's latest collection, posing for the crowd. We didn't see Kim anywhere. But then, at the far end of the balcony, we noticed that the relatively calm crowd became much denser and more manic. Sure enough, there was Kim, surrounded by a whole different crew of photographers. She was still there when we finished viewing the show, so once again we tried to take a few photos. Alas, every picture we took was a partial shot of half her head. But hey, we didn't really care, right? So eventually we gave up, left the presentation and went back into the building.
But then, on our way out, we heard a commotion behind us and saw that Kim, trailed by photographers, was leaving too. She was following us! We quickly realized that the closest way out, the way we were already going, was down the escalator. So we managed to step onto it a few seconds before Kim and her bodyguard. Yes, she was just three steps behind us, and unable to escape our camera. We immediately turned to her and politely asked for a photo. Despite our ambush, she said, "Yes," or maybe she said that she'd like to be our new best friend, we can't remember, it's all a blur. All we know was that she posed and allowed us to take two shots, before her bodyguard said, with surprising, politeness, "Okay that's good."
We're not sure why we felt compelled to take a photo of someone we have no interest in, but for some reason, we got caught up in the paparazzi frenzy. We hate that we behaved like a lemming, but it was like a force greater than ourselves was telling us that we'd be missing out on an important life-changing opportunity unless we too got Kim's photo. So we got it.