I do I really do yearn for the days when I am as Bryan Boy puts it a "coffee runner" I want to be an intern at a fabulous fashion magazine or really anywhere that has something to do in the huge universe that is fashion. Although I have heard about terrible intern stories, and even seen them on TV I cant help it that's what I want to be, not forever of course I just think that its an amazing way to learn while you are actually helping out. Then you get an actual job where you work your ass off for years in total clandestinity and finally you get to be something fabulous such as a "creative director", "editor in chief" or something of that sort.
These are the stories I found most hilarious form the Fashionista files:
“My first fashion internship was in the PR department for a beloved British designer. One of her best friends, a well known supermodel (the best known supermodel?) was fronting her spring campaign. I thought getting the designer, the model and the famous photog to St. Barth’s on the same plane on the same day for the same 12 hours was a nightmare (try booking a flight to St. Barth’s—there is like a nine person shuttle plane that runs once or twice daily) but then the clothes came back post-shoot. Turns out the model, who was in the midst of a drug scandal, couldn’t quite hold it together and the white sample suit was soaked in pee. Vogueneeded it for a shoot that afternoon, so guess who got to wash it out?!”
“A friend of mine interned for a socialite who was involved with a lot of charities. She was in a town car on her way to a charity event with her intern. The socialite thought that her intern had a better top than she did. She forced her intern to switch tops in the town car or else she would have been fired, seriously. She never returned the top and insists to this day it is actually hers when she wears it in her office in front of the intern. ”
“I interned at an indie magazine and one of my duties–and the duty of every other intern–was walking the owners’ two dogs twice a day, and scooping up their poop when they went. One time it was my turn and I set out with another intern, plastic bag in hand, to walk them in SoHo where the offices are. Right outside of Intermix–like seriously right beside the doorstep–one of the dogs had a terrible case of diarrhea. We had no way of cleaning it up (we would have needed a hose) and people were already starting to yell at us to clean up after our dog. So we ran away, pulling the still-sick, diarrhea-ing dog through SoHo and back to the offices, with half of SoHo screaming at us.”
These are the stories I found most hilarious form the Fashionista files:
“My first fashion internship was in the PR department for a beloved British designer. One of her best friends, a well known supermodel (the best known supermodel?) was fronting her spring campaign. I thought getting the designer, the model and the famous photog to St. Barth’s on the same plane on the same day for the same 12 hours was a nightmare (try booking a flight to St. Barth’s—there is like a nine person shuttle plane that runs once or twice daily) but then the clothes came back post-shoot. Turns out the model, who was in the midst of a drug scandal, couldn’t quite hold it together and the white sample suit was soaked in pee. Vogueneeded it for a shoot that afternoon, so guess who got to wash it out?!”
“A friend of mine interned for a socialite who was involved with a lot of charities. She was in a town car on her way to a charity event with her intern. The socialite thought that her intern had a better top than she did. She forced her intern to switch tops in the town car or else she would have been fired, seriously. She never returned the top and insists to this day it is actually hers when she wears it in her office in front of the intern. ”
“I interned at an indie magazine and one of my duties–and the duty of every other intern–was walking the owners’ two dogs twice a day, and scooping up their poop when they went. One time it was my turn and I set out with another intern, plastic bag in hand, to walk them in SoHo where the offices are. Right outside of Intermix–like seriously right beside the doorstep–one of the dogs had a terrible case of diarrhea. We had no way of cleaning it up (we would have needed a hose) and people were already starting to yell at us to clean up after our dog. So we ran away, pulling the still-sick, diarrhea-ing dog through SoHo and back to the offices, with half of SoHo screaming at us.”
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