If any of you Americans have ever been to Prague, you may have been impressed by the extraordinarily beautiful women. You may even have been (if you’re a guy) drooling so much or (if you’re a girl) being jealous so much, that you didn’t notice what was covering up their amazing bodies. It could’ve been nude stockings; maybe it was a pleather skirt; perhaps her t-shirt boasted a tacky and misspelled English slogan – but whatever that girl was wearing, chances are it wasn’t pretty.

Knowing what I do about the Czech fashion sense, it’s a wonder I spent the precious hours I did at Prague Fashion Week, April 11-18. But I’ll go to anything for a good laugh, especially if it’s free. And if you want me to be really truthful, I do have to say that there were a few respectable collections on display – among them Sisi Wasabi, Karaka Design, and Rodriguez Figueroa. Of course, none of them was Czech. The audience, however, was, and I think I was one of the 5 best-dressed spectators (which isn’t saying much) at the event. I mean, how can you expect Czech designers to create something beautiful when they’re surrounded by people who dress in head-to-toe pink and have skunk-inspired highlights in their hair?

It’s been just over two years since I moved to the Czech Republic, and all this time I’ve been trying to decode the popular fashion ethos. Quite often, but quite randomly, throughout the three days of catwalk presentations at Fashion Week, the audience would suddenly burst into applause for an outfit that was sashaying down the runway – usually they were pieces I found repulsive; sometimes they were just alright, and other times I actually liked what I was seeing. None of it made sense. It wasn’t until the very last collection that it occurred to me what was happening, and then instantly I understood the last two years of my life: the Czechs were applauding each and every, but only, the shiny objects.