Hello, My name is "Intern"
During this internship I constantly prepared myself with imaginary scenarios of how I would introduce myself to the Marie Claire editors. I'd bump into them in the kitchen. Use my charm to complement their outfit and tell them how much I admire their work. They would then invite me out for some coffee to chat about their incredible career. We would become so close that they would then take me under their wing and hire me as their fashion protégé. But that's not really how things work in the fashion world.
Brace yourselves, this is going to be an eventful story. So now I present to you... my very first encounter...
One day I was working in the fashion closet when a woman came up to me and asked me if I could do her a big favor. "Sure! What can I help you with?" "I need you to go pick up something very important. Follow me." So on we ventured through the sea of desks and fabulous people until we reached one particular desk all the way in the back corner next to the kitchen. Zanna's Desk. Oh my god.
There she was, looking flawless as she glances up to greet me, "Hi, can you do me a huge favor," she said in her chic British accent, "I need you to go to my place and pick up my Project Runway dresses. It's a bit urgent because I need to be on set in an hour." Wait...WHAT?! I couldn't shake off the dumb surprised look on my face."You....you...want me to go 'into' your house?" She gave me a reassuring smile and said, "Yeah! Just go upstairs and into my closet. The dresses should be hanging on the door. If you have any problems just give me a call." What?! Is this actually happening!? "Here is my address. Thank you so much!" Is this real life?
So on I ventured looking for the mystical land that was Zanna's apartment with nothing but my phone, a vague idea of the city, and sticky note with her address. To my surprise, it wasn't really that hard to find. She had mentioned she was moving into a new apartment that day and that there would be a ton of movers. So when I saw the giant moving truck outside the beautiful neighborhood, I knew I found my destination.
Because there were movers walking in and out of the house constantly, the door was wide open. So I awkwardly walked inside and up the stairs without saying a word. None of the movers questioned why a confused girl in a purple dress was walking around aimlessly in the apartment. For all they knew I could have been a deranged crazy fangirl or a burglar. Lucky for them I was just an innocent girl doing simple tasks to earn her way into the fashion world.
The apartment looked pretty unglamorous at the time because of all the boxes lying around, but you could tell it was once a sanctuary of glamour. Knowing Zanna's work, this place had to have been amazing! I looked around and when I finally found her closet, I realized that every single thing had been packed and there were no dresses hanging on the door. OMG no! How the hell am I ever going to find these dresses now! I only have 30 minutes to get back!
"Hi...umm...Excuse me? Have you seen a bag with two Calvin Klein dresses?" I asked one of the men working. "Sorry. I pack box," he said with a thick accent, shrugged, and continued taping a box in front of him. "But this is very important. Do you remember where you put Mrs. Rossi's clothes?" He just stared at me blankly. Great. Now what.
I looked around and saw two men speaking to each other in Spanish. Duhh! He doesn't understand English! So I whipped out my Spanish skills and went up to the man again and said, "Hola señor. ¿Me puedes ayudar? Estoy buscando una bolsa con dos vestidos. ¿Los has visto?" || "Hello sir. Can you help me? I'm looking for a bag with two dresses. Have you seen them?" Please tell me they're in here somewhere! "Sí, pero yo ya los empaqué. Deben estar en una de estas cajas." || "Yes, but I already packed them. They should be in one of these boxes." I looked around the room at sea of boxes. There had to be at least 30 of them and the dresses had to be in one of them, the question was....which one?
So on we both went, literally ripping apart each box frantically looking for these dresses. I felt bad because we literally tore apart everything in the room, and of course the dresses were in the last box we opened! If I wasn't in such a time crunch I would have helped the man tape everything back up but I had 10 minutes to get the dresses to Zanna and I had no time to waste.
So I ran. Literally. I ran in my 3 inch heels back to the Hearst building like a mad woman. When I finally made it back to the Marie Claire office, I walked over to Zanna and handed her the dresses looking like the hottest mess you have ever seen. My makeup was smeared all over my face, I had sweat stains on my dress, bleeding blisters from my shoes, and a head full of frizz. Obviously the ideal way to approach a big time fashion editor.
"Here you go Zanna!" I said breathlessly. She looks up and smiles, "OMG thank you!!"Yes! I didn't screw up! "No problem Zanna. My name is Ingrid by the way. Please let me know if you need anything else." She gives me another genuine smile, "Thank you Ingrid! You're a life saver!" Holy shit. Zanna Roberts Rossi knows my name now! Mission accomplished.
So I guess you can say my first encounter with a big time fashion editor was a hot mess of a success.