Vintage Versace, that is. I call them my United Nations pants because they’re flag-printed and cause more controversy than a girl needs on a night out–even on Fashion’s Night Out. To keep it brief, Drake was spinning. I hung outside his roped-off area for awhile, but I was so hungry that I became more interested in breaking past the ropes to get to an unreachable bowl of pita chips than I was to chill with him. (Lies. I wanted to, but he was surrounded by more security than Obama.) Too keep it short, the glamorous 5th Avenue Versace store was temporarily transformed into a mob scene. Drake played some Lil’ Wayne and I bounced to get some real food. #FNO y’all!
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