You might think that fashion shows are all about glitz and glamour, but let me tell you, it is definitely not the fun and games that it appears to be from photos and videos on TV, the Internet, and in the papers. For the designer, models, and producers of the show, it is ALL work. Trust me, there is more than one reason why the models aren't smiling up there on the runway. I won't go into all the gory details about we encountered as media while trolling the LA Fashion Week shows over at Smashbox Studios last week, but I will list a few choice highlights:

• Parking - Parking is absolutely atrocious. You can valet park for about a billion dollars, but unless you drive a Maserati (or a Benz -- they sponsored the show), you will be faced with snickers and hushed "OMGs" from the people waiting on the curb worse than if you were caught in a Gap t-shirt. From 1981. Hell, if you're wearing a Gap t-shirt from 1981, at least you'd be "retro." So, what do we plebeians do? We have luxury transport on a shuttle (read: short bus) from an off-site parking structure. Classy.
• Temperature - It is hot hot hot inside the main lobby, and we're not talking "that's hot" kind of hot. I am talking about the entire LA fashion world packed into a tiny studio lobby about the size of three trailers. Of course, if you're lucky enough to score a VIP bracelet, you can go into the uber-ooh-la-la space that's hidden away from the rest of us. I bet they had air conditioning. Come on people, this is LA in October. Dress for 80 degree weather so you're not sweating in your cashmere sweater dresses and tights.
  

• Bathrooms - They are considered luxury port-a-potties, but excuse me, when does "luxury" ever really work with "port-a-potty?" Never. There were three stalls for women, which meant you were waiting in line just to get inside what smells like, well, a port-a-potty that's been fermenting in the desert for 40 days.
• Lines - I thought "going out" in Hollywood was bad. Try getting into a fashion show if you don't have "celebrity" status. The lines are long, People push aggressively. They cut. They try to smooth-talk their way past the bouncer. I haven't seen this much velvet rope nonsense since Paris Hilton at Bungalow 8.
  

The one thing I will give them though, is the open bar. Drink freely. You will need it. Especially if you have to go to the bathroom.