I follow a bunch of people on Instagram whom I’ve never met, and I’m unlikely to ever meet unless I accidentally bump into them while getting lost on Ponsonby Road because I’m looking for McDonald’s on Great North Road and somehow I turn right and end up on the most fashionable street in Auckland wearing faded cargo pants that I wore when I was pregnant and white Chucks that are no longer white, and I walk straight into them trying to use Google Maps on my iPhone 5s that has a cracked screen so I can barely see anything on it and accidentally spill their trim flat soy lattechino all over their Kate Sylvester cardy. Or something.
Thoughts about NZ Fashion Week
Erin Reilly 