KEY POINTS:
For one week every year, a social pages-frequenting, PR company-owning, globe-trotting former wild child by the name of Ricardo Simich is THE most powerful man in the country - well, at Fashion Week anyway.
Without a doubt, if you don't want to be jammed at the back by the emergency exit or if you want a seat at all, Simich is the person to know. His judgment can gain media attention, boost profiles and make, or break, a fashionista's social standing.
Simich is what would be called, if he were working the New York catwalk shows, "Front of House". At Air New Zealand Fashion Week his title, he laughs, is "Juggler".
From the opening of Fashion Week on Tuesday, he will be making sure each guest sits in the right seat at every runway show at Auckland's Viaduct.
It's a job that, at first glance, seems perfectly straightforward. In reality it's a complex, psychologically intriguing, high-stakes balancing act involving prestige, egos, careers and a whole lot of money.
Fashion Week is one of the most glamorous events in the local calendar, a six-day popularity contest in high heels. But it's also a serious revenue generator. In 2006, our clothing exports were worth $327 million. Fashion Week gives local designers the exposure and contacts that can generate big sales, and help them become global brands.
At this very moment, more than 200 local and international media representatives, plus dozens of buyers, are descending like a black-clad murder of crows upon Auckland. They're coming to see what our finest design talent has to offer and, possibly, double or triple someone's turnover in an instant.
They can't do that if they don't have a decent view of the runway. Or if they're accidentally left outside the venue without a ticket.
Scene from last year: an influential online journalist screaming, incandescent, "But I've never been denied access to the Paris shows!""If
anyone's pissed off, that's who I sort out first," says Simich. "Although the people who act out are often not as important as they think they are."
Simich is famously diplomatic, a skill learned from his years in retail with Keith Matheson. He's well-connected, partying with the likes of Paris Hilton and Gilda Kirkpatrick. He also has a canny understanding of who's who and who should go where that makes him a natural for the role.
"I was first asked to do it four years ago and it seemed like fun. I didn't realise it would be such hard work, too. I'm on my feet all day until late in the evening. I lose my winter weight every time!"
The seating plans are arranged in advance, with organiser Denise Cohen and her assistants putting the initial guest lists together. These are tweaked and approved by the designer, and then Simich gets involved.
"When the overseas contingent arrives, I meet with them and suggest designers they may like to see. The Europeans are keen on the whole Belgian look so I might, for example, recommend Alexandra Owen.
"Asia is where the big money is, while the Australians are our largest export market. Every designer wants them at their shows."
Once he's au fait with the international crowd, he researches local VIPs, sponsors and other bigwigs to make sure he recognises them and looks after them accordingly.
His domain stretches across the first two rows of each Viaduct venue, but it's the front row that everyone cares about. It's where they all want to be, the instant measure of a guest's importance in the eyes of an image-obsessed crowd.
Simich says: "TV presenters like Simon and Ali are automatically front row. Plus people with music or fashion cred, and generally those who are part of popular culture. Oliver Driver, Clarke Gayford, Gilda, Shavaughan ... "
Fortunately For Sumich, New Zealand's list of so-called "celebrities" is reasonably compact. Front-row seating at Fashion Week is also compact. The smallest Viaduct venue, Shed 1, seats 40 in the front row. The largest, the Westpac Tent, holds a total of 1000 people. Only 100 of them will be enthroned in the prime position.
"The international delegates have minders, who tell me if someone's not going to make it. I always keep five front-row seats up my sleeve because you never know who might turn up. Apparently the All Blacks are interested in coming this year."
Then there are the people who think they should be in the front row, but Simich and the designer don't.
People get very irked when they feel publicly belittled. One legendary hissy fit which supposedly occurred at a World show a few years back is told in Denise L'Estrange Corbet's autobiography, All That Glitters. The World designer tells the story of a slighted, and vocally disgruntled, Stacy Gregg.
"I don't do Row B!" Gregg allegedly yelled, before trying to storm out. How deliciously arrogant; how continental of her.
Simich's view of the spat is rather different. "Stacy's too cool-for-school to do something like that," he says. "In fact, media of her calibre are always the ones who are the most helpful, giving up their seat if there's a problem and going out of their way to be nice."
Amongst the international media, Air New Zealand Fashion Week is known as the Friendly Games, concedes Simich. "It's like a family, really. Although last year, for some reason, was the bitchiest ever. My patience was sorely tried."
Last year a glass of wine was thrown over a gossip columnist. The rock-n-roll crowd grew raucous at Stolen Girlfriends, and Simich had to magic up 20 extra front-row seats while the guests bayed for their moment in the spotlight.
But there were some magic moments for Simich - seeing Rachel Hunter, Nicky Watson and Aja Rock sitting together in the front row at Yvonne Bennetti's show for one.
"Those three blondes in the front row were quite a sight," Simich happily reminisces.
This year, more than 40 designers will be parading their clothes with shows running from 9.30am until the final shows at 8pm. Then there are the after-parties, which can go on until 4am. That is plenty of time for drama.
Simich just hopes his suits stay the distance. As the concierge, the shepherd to the masses, he's very concerned about leading by example and keeping up appearances.
"I'm going for classic black and white this year. I stay fresh-faced with a dab of L'Oreal True Match under the eyes. And I don't have my first glass of champagne until 6pm."
Above all, the snappily dapper Simich likes to display a perfectly co-ordinated front row.
"It gives me a moment of pride, standing by the catwalk and seeing what I've created. And not simply because it photographs well.
"Air New Zealand Fashion Week isn't just about clothes and celebrities. It's one big commercial for our designers. It's all about business."
HOW TO GET A FRONT ROW SEAT
1 Open a clothes shop or train as a journalist. Buyers and media are crucial to the success of every designer. If you represent a potentially lucrative sale or a high-profile media organisation, you'll be treated accordingly.
2 Become a "celebrity." It's New Zealand, so you don't have to attain Victoria Beckham status.
3 Snaffle a gig as the CEO of a corporate sponsor, or marry one. Money talks, and you'll be whisked to one of the best seats.
4 Be the designer's mum.
5 Look pretty. There are usually a few no-shows, and if you're a good-looking, well-dressed individual , Ricardo could talent-spot you for a coveted front-row position.
