First and foremost, I’m a gardener. Groundskeeping is my passion and it just comes naturally to me. Yeah, I do what I can for the blogosphere and enjoy my status as an up-and-coming “foodie” but, truth is, nothing compares to the sun on my fur and dirt in my paws. So it was as much a surprise to me as it was to my mom that we were both cordially invited to attend New York Fashion Week on behalf of the Ralph Lauren Corporation. Fact: When I’m not helping grass grow there are few places I’d rather be than New York City. The concrete jungle is full of smells you simply can’t find anywhere else. In a single city block the experienced smeller of stuff (I am this) can detect wafts of old burger grease, fancy leather shoes and bagels with lox—it’s heaven for my schnoz.
Last week, we arrived early and began roaming the streets. We hit up the mainstays—stopped by Rockefeller Center and The Museum of Modern Art, had tea at The Plaza and went up and down the escalator at Bergdorf’s. We took a waddle through Central Park each morning and rode the subway to Brooklyn for some people watching in the afternoons. Long story short, I was digging the trip. But somewhere in the middle of all the action I began forgetting that I had work to do.
On Wednesday morning I was on the corner of Prince and Crosby Street when my phone rang. It was my boss who, between you and me, could really use a vacation. I picked up reluctantly. There was a sense of urgency in his bark that I’d heard before and I quickly remembered when. Back in July, Yolanda the Yorkie was supposed to cover the Coney Island Hot Dog Eating Contest but, just minutes before her televised interview went live, she broke into the kitchen and scarfed down sixteen of Nathan’s finest. If you’re familiar with the average size of a Yorkie, then you know this was an ambitious undertaking even for Yolanda (who, how should I put this, is significantly more average around the midsection than one might consider typical of the breed). The interview started off okay, but she ended up burping uncontrollably before falling asleep about thirty seconds in. Suffice it to say, management was mortified.
My boss got straight to the point—I better have something great on his desk come Friday or start looking for a job at the New York Times. I assured him he had absolutely nothing to worry about and told him I had my eye on a fellow named Hohammad Mastafa who had a hot dog cart on Fifth Avenue and 62nd Street not too far from the zoo. “Did you know he pays the city nearly $300,000 dollars a year for his location?” I explained, “that’s a lot of hot dogs.” Silence ensued on the other end of the line. I quickly sensed that the incident with Yolanda was still a sore subject and decided to go another route. “Okay Boss, there’s this fashionista here that I know from California. She’s the fiancé of our boy Big Chunky Monkey and—”
“You mean the best dressed bully on social media, @daisygordita?” he shouted. (Every now and then my boss surprises me with how in-the-know he is. For however grumpy editing The Droolitzer makes him, the guy has his paw on the pulse.) “She’s been at every runway show this week!” he continued, “Bill Cunningham has been pushing people out of the way to get a snap of her.” He paused and I could hear him frantically shuffling through papers on his desk. Then he said, “She’ll be at the Ralph Lauren show on Thursday. Don’t let me down Bogie,” and hung up.
“Geez Boss,” I thought to myself, “way to up the pressure.” Daisy is the Kate Moss of our time and I was going to interview her. I trotted back to my room at The Crosby Street Hotel and dug through my duffle in search of something remotely cool to wear to the show. Unprepared, all I had was a vintage red Ralph Lauren bandana. It would have to do. I spent the rest of the evening hitting up fashion blogs so that I’d sound passably intelligent the next morning. I nodded off somewhere between The Styleograph and @manrepeller.
My alarm started up at 7:30am and there was no time to hit snooze. I hopped out of bed, brushed my teeth with peanut butter paste, put on my bandana, grabbed my notepad, breath mints, three pencils and put on my penny loafers—no socks. I was out the door in record time heading to Washington St and Houston St.
The scene was chaotic. Photographers were on their knees, contorting their bodies for the perfect shot of celebrities and the fashion world’s A listers. I said hello to some publicists, bloggers and a (nice) lady named Anna Wintour. You know, networking. But just as I was about to walk inside the show a bully caught my eye—a bully so stunning that she took the crowd’s breath away. Lying amidst the sea of legs and flashing bulbs was Daisy dressed in a tasteful pink polka dotted bikini that I’m sure even the late Bone Rivers would have approved.
I walked over and introduced myself.
Bogie: Daisy, before we get into the thick of it, who are you wearing?
Daisy: This little number is a Carolina Hairrera. She always seems to know my mood and creates just the right style for every occasion.
Bogie: She sure does. You’re a pop of color amongst the neutral hues of this crowd. So we know you’re a northern California girl with an eye for fashion. Has this always been the case?
Daisy: I have always been an itsy bitsy teeny weeny bikini and short shorts kind of girl. Though ever since the pawty scene and personal appearances at charity events has exploded my social calendar I’ve have had to add some frills to my wardrobe.
Bogie: And that you most certainly have! Your wardrobe is as extensive as my garden hose collection. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you repeat an outfit. Do you have a favorite designer?
Daisy: I am very good at mixing and matching various outfits and creating a new look out of my favorite styles. I’ve found that by simply changing a top and pairing it with a different tutu, skirt or shorts—voila—a whole new never-before-seen outfit can be created. It also helps that my personal assistant, named Mom, designs and creates many of my clothes. As for a professional designer, I have my eye on the spring collection of Oscar de la Ruff. I hear it’s full of promise and pink. And by that I mean the promise of flowers, the color pink and very pretty dresses for young girls in love. As you know, there is a very special beau in my life that I’m hoping to tie the knot with next spring.
Bogie: Yes, the wedding everybully is talking about. Have you confirmed your celeb couple name as Chunky Daisy?
Daisy: No comment on that, Bogie. Speaking of my love, Big Chunky Monkey, our mutual talent for fashion has really allowed this relationship to blossom into a match made in heaven. Isn’t it hard to imagine that we first met after being voted #worstdressed at the Bullywood Oscars almost two years ago?
Bogie: If I remember correctly, it’s not shocking at all.
Daisy: Oh come now Bogie! I was setting the red carpet on fire with my hot little flaming dress while Chunky was stinking the place up with his white gym socks and tux. Who knew that those stinky white socks would set off the smoke alarms and that that would bring us together? I’ll never forget meeting my soulmate with his tight tees and sexy skinny jeggings.
Bogie: Truly a memorable night for all. I was thankful to have had a paw in you two meeting. So Miss D, where do you shop?
Daisy: I like to shop at the pet stores, but when I send my assistant out she tends hit up the designer section at Walmart and Target. Personally, I love the 99 cent store, they have some great finds. (Can you not put that last part in Bogie? It’s not good for my image.)
Bogie: Who doesn’t love a good pet store?? Really. Ok, it’s Fashion Week in New York City and you’re here in the thick of every A Lister in the country. Is there anybully in particular you’re hoping to run into? In other woofs, do you have a fashion muse?
Daisy: I have met a new friend named @zeldawisdom who is about as daring as you can get when it comes to clothing combos. She has become my fashion icon with her style and on-camera presence. She has a new outfit everyday and generates such positive energy. I find that refreshing.
Bogie: Awesome. She sounds like she’s a rising star in the making. So what are your five beauty essentials that you can’t leave home without?
Daisy: My makeup bag, a drool towel (can’t let them see you sweat or drool), my collection of balls for exercising, always a flower, bow, bandana or scrunchie for my collar so I’m not mistaken for a boy (and so I can be spotted easily in a crowd) and last but not least, treats.
Bogie: You’re very much a girl, but you had me at treats! When you’re not traveling from runway show to fitting, what do you do with your time?
Daisy: I like participating in events for charity. The beach is my go-to spot all year long and I love a good bully meet-up a couple times a month. As you can see Boges, I’m VERY busy.
Bogie: I’m honored and flattered you took the time to answer all my questions Daisy. The photographers are lining up to take your shot for best #streetfashion of NYFW, but do you think you can squeeze in a lightening round before you start posing?
Daisy: I think we have time. Let’s go!
Bogie: High heels or flats?
Daisy: Flats don’t want to be taller than my man.
Bogie: Chanel or Prada?
Daisy: Chanel, but I’m looking at Rag & Bone, impressive on the runway this year.
Bogie: Did I hear something about a bone?? RVs or New York subway?
Daisy: Definitely RVs and trailer parks, I have a sense of adventure.
Bogie: I can tell! Little black dress or jeans and a tank?
Daisy: I prefer starting off in a LBD and then ending up in shorts and a tank.
Bogie: Dressed up or down?
Daisy: Dressed up of course!
Bogie: Paris or Milan fashion week?
Daisy: Paris. Parlez-vous français?
Daisy: After my thigh master workouts, Daisy Dukes!