The rose and the sunflower.
The girl with the golden eyes and the boy with a golden heart.
The girl that believed love was just a fairytale and the boy that believed fairytales are just stories waiting to come true.
'I used to think love was a point...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
———
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Camp: Notes on Fashion.
That's the theme for this year's Met Gala. When I got the invitation, it didn't even resonate with me that I was being invited to attend the Met Gala. My focus for the first hour after receiving the invitation was entirely taken up with what the fuck "camp" meant. My stylist and I spent that entire hour on the phone brainstorming ideas that could fit the theme. I've spent way too many years watching the Met's red carpet to know that it's in my best interest to be on theme or risk getting absolutely slandered online.
It only took an eternity for it to click in my brain; I got invited to attend the Met Gala. Except, I don't think it ever fully sunk in that I was invited because as the van pulls up to the event and the pink carpet is in my line of sight, all my nerves seem to bore through to the surface.
I'm one of the first people to arrive on the carpet due to the role I'm supposed to play this evening. Yesterday, I spent the day doing a table read with Vogue because today, I get to interview people after they walk the stairs. I'm still freaking out on what a huge opportunity this is, none of it feels real.
I close my eyes, take a few deep breaths and look at the camera Vogue has had following me on my journey getting ready for this event. "Am I shaking? Yes."
"I think, you know obviously you look like yourself but this is just an alter ego." Fiona says to me, sitting next to the cameraman.
"You know what that's good. If I look at it like that, this is just my alter ego going out there. You know, it's not Hayley stepping onto that carpet. This isn't Hayley tonight, this is Hermione." The name pops into my head as I remember being called that by my friends growing up.
"Yes, this is Hermione."
I look outside as someone opens the big sliding door of the van, the signal it's time to sign off and get out there. "This is where we part ways, please wish me luck. Thank you Vogue for joining me, I love you." I blow a kiss to the camera and get ready to leave the vehicle. Jacques is in his own ride right behind mine.
