Is there a way to convey the excitement one can feel from seeing the models striding on the catwalk? To write coherently about frantic heartbeats in the strobing neon churches of vanity we call fashion shows? I certainly think so, and I’m here to deliver this primal, visceral feeling of idolatry and living totems to you. Together, we’re going to delve into the backstage world of grit and passion, scandal and nerve, delusions of grandeur and chasms of demise. This blog is much more than giving tips on what to wear to your boss’ patio soiree – it’s about being the apex predator in human skin that rips out the love of the crowd from pale, lifeless hands.