So I had just left the main square of Mexico City, along with several members of the press trip for FITA I was on. Actually, I didn’t go willingly. I had been watching some incredible traditional/untraditional Mexican dancing near the Aztec ruins in “Zocalo” when I was reminded, about nine times, that I was holding up the group from dinner.

I found myself walking down the crowded Mexico City streets when I ran into a busy intersection with velvet ropes with the fashionably elite escorted inside through tight security. A friend and colleague flashed her media credentials (for a different event) and headed through the doors into an Immaculate party. A moment or two later, I tried the same (but had forgotten my badge). Although I was initially turned away, I was asked to wait while they checked to see if other writers could enter.

One of the joys of being a writer, especially while on assignment, is knowing that my profession opens doors both literally and figuratively. In this case, the doors opened wide and the show’s producer gave me and several other writers full access to, what turned out to be, Mexico’s 200 Years of Fashion (or 200 Años de Moda). The black tie, dressed to the nines event showcased two centuries of Mexico’s finest evening wear, local fashionistas, champagne, hor d’oeuvres, local camera crews and me trying to get the show’s models to pose a little for my camera.

As I watched the local tour guides attempt to wrangle the party-crashing travel writers out of the door and back to our scheduled restaurant for dinner, I snapped photos as fast as I could. My impromptu photography session moved along quicker than I would have liked. Still, I managed to get some good shots, including my friend and first party crasher of the night, Teresa Rodriguez (of Jetset Extra and Tango Diva fame) enjoying a little of the event’s bubbly.

And yes, this is a real job. Although, sometimes travel writing does not feel like a job. It just feels like an opportunity to crash the party.