As I scroll through Instagram, I see the flurry of excitement that always accompanies Fashion Week. Friends are sharing backstage moments, flashing invitations, and asking me the familiar question: “Stephanie, please tell me you’ll be in New York next week!”
Not this year. For the first time in a long time, I’m choosing to sit Fashion Week out. And strangely enough, it feels like I’m living in two worlds—one where JOMO (the Joy of Missing Out) feels grounding and necessary, and another where FOMO (the Fear of Missing Out) quietly tugs at me.
Why I’m Choosing JOMO
For years, Fashion Week was the highlight of my calendar. I thrived on the adrenaline of racing between shows, the late nights, the crinkled invitations stuffed into my bag, and yes—even the blisters that became battle scars of sorts. The energy of it all was unmatched.
But over time, I’ve begun to ask myself: what is Fashion Week really for me? Inspiration and connection are always valuable, of course. Yet I’m not a street style influencer, and being photographed outside venues has never been my goal. My personal style doesn’t always align with the bold theatrics NYFW is known for. And maybe more than anything, my priorities have shifted. Between planning a wedding, redecorating my apartment, and managing ongoing projects, I’ve come to cherish the quieter moments. Right now, JOMO looks like evenings at home with my fiancé, meals with family, and time well spent with close friends.
It may not sound as glamorous as NYFW, but it feels right for where I am.
The Unseen Side of Fashion Week
Don’t get me wrong—I’m still deeply inspired by Fashion Month. Watching designers reveal their collections is magical, and the cultural conversations that surround those moments are meaningful. But rarely do we talk about the exhaustion, stress, and sheer logistics of attending.
My Fashion Week experiences ran the gamut: crashing on friends’ couches in Spanish Harlem, squeezing into an Airbnb with seven other girls, finally affording a one-bedroom with my assistant where we survived on Uber Eats in between shows. Each year ended the same: utterly drained.
And then there’s the content creation side of things. Shooting photos in New York can be more stressful than people realize. The dirty streets, unpredictable lighting, relentless traffic, and impatient photographers don’t exactly make for a dream backdrop. By the time we finished shooting, we’d be running across town hoping not to miss the next show. It was exhilarating—but also completely depleting.
A Season of Shedding
Stepping away this year isn’t just about fatigue—it’s also about clarity. Over the past year, I’ve been shedding the layers of what I thought I “should” be as a blogger or influencer. Those labels never quite fit, and I’ve grown tired of trying to mold myself into them.
Instead, I’m leaning into the question of purpose. What do I want my platform to represent? What stories am I here to tell? Sometimes that means going against the grain, and that’s okay. Choosing not to attend Fashion Week this season is part of that. It’s a small rebellion, but a freeing one.
The Shifting Future of Fashion
Ironically, technology makes this decision easier. With live streams, backstage footage, and instant coverage on social media, Fashion Week is more accessible than ever before. I can watch collections unfold in real time—without the sore feet.
And honestly, I often wonder what the future of Fashion Week will look like. With the fashion industry facing scrutiny over its environmental impact, the traditional format of runway shows may not be sustainable long-term. Already we’re seeing designers experiment with capsule collections, off-season presentations, private previews, and collaborations that bypass the old schedule altogether.
Yet despite these changes, the magic of Fashion Week hasn’t disappeared. There’s still something intoxicating about the exclusivity of being in the room, the sense of community it creates, and the messages woven into each collection. Fashion shows, at their best, transcend clothes and speak to the cultural moment in ways that resonate far beyond the runway.
Embracing the Balance
So here I am, caught between JOMO and FOMO. I know the pang of missing out will come—it always does—but it will fade. What won’t fade is the joy I feel in slowing down, investing in the people and places that matter most right now.
For me, this season looks less like high heels on cracked New York sidewalks and more like slipping into comfortable shoes at home while piecing together the final touches of my apartment. Less about chasing from venue to venue and more about savoring conversations with family around the dinner table.
There will be future shows to attend, future collections to celebrate in person. But for now, I’m grateful for the chance to redefine what success and fulfillment look like for me—and it doesn’t always require a front-row seat.
So to everyone attending Fashion Week: I’ll be watching, cheering, and celebrating from afar. And to everyone else embracing JOMO in their own way, know that sometimes the most meaningful moments happen off the runway.
Happy Fashion Month.
