IT'S TIME TO 'SHOW LOVE' IN DOWNTOWN TORONTO

And so it begins, my first day at Toronto Fashion Week arrived. Wednesday morning hardly came soon enough, and for once in many-a-year, hauling myself out of under the covers was hardly an issue on this especial day. With not but four clouds shielding the sun's powerful rays from pouring in through my bedroom skylight, the weather was beckoning me playfully to make my way over to LG Fashion Week at Nathan Phillips Square in Toronto, Canada for an explosive day of runways, schmoozing and fashion frenzy. So instinctively, at the sound of my Blackberry's programmed bleeps, I jumped into the shower and began my adventure from first scrub to last show.

At two o'clock in the afternoon and I arrived at the iconic white tents propped in the center of Nathan Phillips Square in downtown Toronto. A red carpet is rolled out from the media entrance and security guards stand intermittently around the tent to avoid the uninvited. Taking a deep breath- my feeble attempt to calm my nerves- I approach the doorman and let him know my pass is inside awaiting my pickup. He nods and leads me to the desk, where I excitedly receive my all-access media pass.

The inside of the tent is absolutely breathtaking. Black and red crystal chandeliers are dangle from the peaked, tented ceilings while white leather couches are closely grouped for socialization. and fashion week volunteers are dawdling at every orifice with the week's slogan "SHOW LOVE" posted gaily on their white volunteer t-shirts. A dazzling bar stocked with assortments of drinks like fashion week-themed martinis and Jean Paul Gaultier Evian bottles capture my attention as I meander through the exuberant crowd. The area was appropriately titled "The Fashion Environment", and the show's sponsors had booths set up all over the fashion map. I stood in the center of the tent, taking in my surroundings. Directly to my left, Fashion Television had set up an area to film from, naturally to interview the designers I supposed. Behind that, the Barbie booth bounced out with animated color, iconic dolls of all sorts patiently poised behind their labels on the shelves. I unwillingly snapped my head away from the alluring display, turning to see the one room I knew I was bound for. I sidled through the crowd, working my way towards the privately-guarded, walled-off area. After more hustle than I had expected, I came to the entrance of The Media Filing Room. The doorman glanced at me expectantly, and I flashed my pass. He nodded, and let me pass. My chest began to bubble as my heart overflowed with passionate excitement. I scanned the room fervently, taking in everything at once. Turning to look back, I noticed the walls were used as boards to display the media reporting at fashion week. I spotted my own and had to clutch my heart to keep it from pounding out excitedly. Whipping out my camera, I snapped a few shots to commemorate the moment.

Happily dazed, I continued to roam around the room, until I heard an overhead voice announce

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please take your seats on the runway, the show will begin shortly."

I turned to exit the room towards the lines in the main room when someone gently tapped my shoulder.

"Miss, if you have a media pass you can just come through this way", a young volunteer advised, "Right this way, please".

He pointed to the far corner of the room where two curtains hung to reveal an entrance onto the runway, with a sign above titled "MEDIA ENTRANCE". Pleased with my good fortune, my mouth broke into a wide grin and I nodded my thanks. I glided through the entrance, flashing my pass where necessary, and continued to the runway. It was then that I noticed the names on each seat- reserved, if you will- and was shown to a seat in the front row. Giddily, I began to dither with my things until my neighbors came. I snapped shots of the enormous runway room. Complete and utter awe was washing through me, in waves strong enough to pull me under. Glancing around the room I took in every detail: the famous faces, the photographers and filmographers set up at the back, the bright white runway splitting the room in two, the house-shaped base of the runway with two entrances from which the models, designers, and magic all came out from. It was as if someone had handed me a pair of pink sunglasses- suddenly, the world had such a rosy tint.

Then the lights began to dim, and bright lights shone out the name "Gaudet" against that aforementioned house-shaped runway base. I knew it was time for the show to begin, so of course, here the journal entry ends. Here, my introduction ends. Alas, creatively contrived fashion reports, incredible interviews, after-party coverage, and sensational shots will follow. At long last, I bring you, my report on LG Fashion Week.