The Catwalks Of Karachi

Last night I attended a fashion show, and a few nights earlier I attended a fashion show. That’s two more fashion shows than I’ve attended in America, or anywhere. The shows took place by an outdoor pool at a luxury hotel in the center of Karachi, and they seemed the real thing (Fashion TV, which I’ve not been able to ignore, is my guide on this). The shows, featuring Pakistani-designed garments, included strobe lights, throbbing music, scowling models (why don’t models smile?) and clothing that revealed enough flesh to give Mullah Omar a heart attack, though not as much as you’d see on a New York catwalk. I hadn’t been invited but happened to pass by and became curious—fashion shows in Pakistan? Because I am Caucasian I was waved inside by security guards who were otherwise making sure that Pakistani guests possessed invitations; reverse racism has its benefits, at least for its beneficiaries.