CROSSING THE LINE

Creamy chocolate and delicious clothes are enough to draw me to just about any event. Throw in an admirable cause—say, cancer cure research—and I'll probably stay through till the end (and not just because I want to pocket all the bonbons).

Crossing the Line Fashion Show, held April 23 at the Crittenden Studio in Richmond’s Manchester district, was one of those exquisite occasions where my three favorite aspects of a Friday night distraction intersected: beautiful tastes, beautiful sights and beautiful spirit.

Benefiting Virginia Commonwealth University's Massey Cancer Center, Crossing the Line got its start last year when VCU student Brittany Burke learned of her brother's cancer diagnosis. The fashion merchandising major dreamed up an annual fashion fund-raiser whose proceeds go to Richmond's only National Cancer Institute-designated cancer center specializing in both treatment and research. The show's tagline was “walking away from yesterday's impossibilities and towards tomorrow's hope."

When I first entered the Crittenden Studio, in one of Manchester's many renovated industrial buildings, I encountered many stylish ladies and gents (in their 30s and 40s, mostly) milling around elegant reception tables. Solid-colored spring dresses with a bit of stretchy evening slink were the predominant female wardrobe choice. As for the gents? Crisp cotton button-downs and khakis, for the most part—surprise!

The event began with food, laughs, pecks and understated general merriment. Since I did not know anyone and was still recovering from a cold, I gravitated toward the comestibles and silent auction. The normal fare of cocktail shrimp and various cheeses would have been enough to please me, but Crossing the Line surpassed my culinary expectations. Whether you wanted a Thai-inspired radicchio chicken wrap or bruschetta, there was something to satisfy you. The silent auction had a few gifts and certificates from the likes of The Jefferson Hotel, Osaka Sushi and Steak, Glow Med Spa, Hot Locks Salon, the Richmond Ballet and others.

An hour and many grapes later, I took my seat in the front row. The spectacle would soon begin ... maybe. As with any fashion show, the event started, well, fashionably late. People took their seats and assumed expectant expressions, balancing plates or cameras on their laps. The buzz in the room grew with each passing moment. We wanted our eye candy.