- Living out of the Museum Hotel for the past four to five days. I could easily, easily live in a hotel and the room they’ve put me in here is awesome. Massive, with a washing machine and a dryer and a dishwasher and an oven. And a separate shower and the deepest bath ever. This place also has a sauna and spa and pool (which I am yet to try out)
- Lots of walking in Wellington. I walk hardly anywhere in Auckland so this is a nice change, albeit a tiring one. I swear I’m getting fitter by the minute. Or at least I’m less likely to pass out and get mugged when being chased by theives at night. Either or, I’m good with both.
- Had my first good room service food experience in a long time. And the first good one I’ve had at this hotel. Hoorah! Turns out you can’t really go wrong with fish and chips and creme brulée. (This is also a ‘low(e)’ – see below.)
- Wellingtonians are so friendly! On the streets of Auckland, you avoid eye contact with acquaintances or people you don’t know that well so you don’t have to say hello or acknowledge their presence. Here, everyone says hi to everyone! The amount of people who have come up to me to tell me they read my blog is ridic.
- Had a successful model scouting experience last weekend. Keep an eye out for Brooke (above) over the next few years. I think she’s got the potential to go really far.
- Two meals of fries in a row, followed by one of microwaved takeout. Lucky I’ve done so much walking.
- I totally spent $17.00 on juice. Firstly, $5.00 on my minibar orange juice. Secondly, $8.00 on two room service apple juices and $4.00 for the delivery. Then tonight I was freezing cold and ordered a full room service meal, including desert. I’ve obviously lost my mind.
- How awkward is it to have someone clean your room while you sit there on your computer? Super awkward.
- I forgot to pack my damn toothpaste.
- I’m not sure if you know, but for most fashion weeks, getting tickets is like trying to track down One Direction in a city you don’t know that well (I haven’t seen them). Unless you’re up there in the industry (ie. You’re Bryan Boy, you work at Russh or Vogue, or you’re the buyer for Barneys etc) you generally have to ask to be invited. I am one of those people who has to ask. For the last 8 days, I’ve been emailing PR people asking for invites. I know this is full on #whitegirlproblems but jeez, it’s so stressful to grovel.