After taking in the first chunk of New Zealand Fashion Week, my final days in Auckland were the expected blur. I remember taking advantage of gift-bag finds (see: Pellegrinos and chocolates) in an attempt to save myself and avoid sliding off my chair and onto the runway from the Redbull-vodka rampage from the night before. I remember thinking "If only I were a girl..." while visually feasting on the metallic-everything girlie duds and Barbie-like make-up of Ruby. I remember wanting to run my fingers through many a male model's disheveled locks from Huffer (and borrowing their Huffer duds the morning after...)  I remember thinking Zambesi was rock 'n roll chic, particularly the neons and electric blues juxtaposed with Doc Martens, Chuck Taylors, and sunglasses-at-night. I remember lots of lace and velvet (Black Luxe), lots of sheer (Lonely Hearts) and lots of early 90s (Juliette Hogan). I absolutely will never forget my sweet day-trip via ferry to Waiheke Island, replete with hippie hide-outs and bananas architecture (as seen on the Selby). Oh, and grabbing a bite (and by bite I mean lamb/oysters/desserts and wine!) with the coolest member of Frankie Goes To Hollywood, Paul Rutherford, whose partner Perry Newton helps run the phenomenal Stonyridge Winery. Thanks for the memories, mates.