If the catwalk stage and the adjoining space had small noises of conversation, the backstage side is in chaos. Makeup artists are running with brushes in their hands, hairdressers sweeping pass with combs and curlers, photographers and assistants terrified of their stylists. I'm careful not to run over a short and thin woman sprinting by with some papers in hand. I prefer not to disturb her in her process. Inside it is boiling with tension. I was absolutely loving the energy though, it was bustling with creativity.

I feel a hand on my shoulder, trying to ask for my attention that is focused and amazed by the commotion I see....