It's okay that I can't really stand in my shoes.

Well Merry Christmas and Happy Chanukkah to the clotheshorses of New York City. Fashion Week, the biannual event for which runway models starve themselves, publicists exhaust themselves and magazine publishers prepare themselves to tell all of us what we should be wearing six months from now, has been upon us, which means the hallowed halls of ELLE were a bit empty the past week. With every editor off gallivanting the tents of Lincoln Center (enter KR's jealousy), we commonfolk are the ones left holding down the fort of our fair glossy.

But not today! I, KR, have scored my first job perk with an exclusive invite to Fashion Week (enter your jealousy, perhaps?)! Accompanying one of our vendors, I'll be privilege to the gowns and glitz of Style 360, a conglomerate of shows with which ELLE is affiliated.

So, in preparation for my first fashion show (safe for the birthday fashion show I had when I turned 6, in which I paraded down a makeshift runway in my basement, while decked in a neon striped top and chunky-heeled mary janes), I did what I learned from years of watching Bravo, MTV, VH1 and any other cable network that preaches trends and praises the insanely (insanely!) hard and utterly (utterly!) backbreaking work that goes into pulling off fashion shows without a hitch: I went shopping.

But, alas! My pint-sized, rent-paying, Trader Joes-eating budget is no where near down with wearing the designer's look head-to-toe when attending "a show." Instead, I went shopping from my closet, made a teensy purchase from Forever 21, and am currently rocking a wild look that took nothing from my February "discretionary spending" but ten measly dollars.

So, for those of you wondering about this wild look, it involves mustard colored tights, a leather jacket, and shoes that I can't technically stand in comfortably. But it's sure worth it! RAWR.