If France, you have to have a paper ticket to get into the shows. They arrive via messenger or post, often the day before the event (because the PR people need to scramble to make sure the front row ranks are just right). All of this means you may not know if you’re invited until the last minute.

Sometimes the tickets just never come, and it’s a sad, Waiting-for-Godot situation. I had a scare regarding Chanel (it arrived eventually, after some phone calls), and wasn’t invited to Dior, Valentino, or Dries Van Noten this season.

When I followed up with the Dries press office, they wrote to say “Sorry, there are to standing tickets.” Confused, and hoping that she felt badly that Stacey and I would have to stand rather than sit, I wrote back, “There was a typo: Did you mean two or no?”

“Oh sorry, I meant to write ‘no.'”

Sometimes there isn’t much you can do.

But it pays to be nice. Case in point: I didn’t get Lanvin last season, and I didn’t get bent out of shape. I told the press rep I understood that seating is limited (it’s always a tough show to get into). This season, she promised to get me in, et voila. I’ll be there in a few hours, and then Vuitton, the last show of the season, (and sure to be a celeb-filled extravaganza), and then home to blog all about it.

And sleep.