What happens when a passé, aspiring writer, enters the fashion industry? If you asked me a few months ago, I’d reference the 2006 comedy-drama, The Devil Wears Prada. In the movie, Andy Sachs navigates the high-stakes environment of the fashion industry to get a leg up in the journalism world. I never would’ve imagined myself having personal input on this topic, but now, as a fashion marketing intern, I’m thrilled to answer: when a passé, aspiring writer enters the fashion industry, she has the time of her life.
In the fall, I was in the trenches of internship hunting, applying to everything I could find. I wouldn’t have originally guessed that the fashion position would take a chance on me, but as soon as my interview began, I knew there would only be two possible outcomes: I’d experience a devastating heartbreak in the form of a rejection email, or I’d embark on a life-changing opportunity. Luckily for me, it was the latter.
The early months of my internship all led to the New York Fashion Week show. Until that point, I’d done lots of planning — content strategy, brainstorming, trial and error. I even had the opportunity to intern at a fashion show a few weeks prior, making me somewhat accustomed to the fast-paced environment. After my first show day, I understood that this was exactly where I wanted to be. As I later described to my friends, if fashion is just a tiny blip of my career, that’s okay. But I would be happy doing this for the rest of my life if I could.
That mindset came in handy when I set my alarm for 4:30 a.m. on the day of NYFW. I woke to my bedroom lights blinding me after choosing to sleep with them on. I thought that this would make it easier to get out of bed, and honestly, it helped. I immediately started on hair and makeup, applying the full-glam that had to last me the entire day. And before the sun rose, I was off, fueled by an Alani energy drink and anticipation.
I arrived early in New York, instantly greeted by the familiar awe that only this city gives me. To reach maximum levels of adulting for the day, I decided to finally navigate using the street signs instead of Google Maps. The weather was a gift for a February morning: sunny, free of wind, and a high that broke 30 degrees — the perfect walking day. I stumbled into a bagel shop in Chelsea and was pulled out of dreamland to address my homework for the weekend. I knocked out a couple chapters of The Bell Jar to pass the time. Taking a young adult literature class in college means that I sometimes have to temporarily feel like I’m 17 again, even on one of the most exciting days of my life.
At noon, I arrived at the event location, entering another dimension when I stepped into the dressing room. The gravity of this experience finally dawned on me. The room was full of wardrobe racks, lighting equipment, and hair and makeup artists hard at work. There were more people than I could count, and many of them were already deep into the workday. The buzzing atmosphere was no less than I’d predicted, but the sheer amount of clothing was more than I could’ve envisioned.
As quickly as it all hit me, it was time to get to work. I got my start steaming dresses, and I’m proud to share that I’ve come a long way in this department. Just a month ago, I had no idea how to fill the steamer with water, let alone operate it on a piece of clothing. This time, I was ready to jump right in, grateful to be useful on such a hectic day. Unfortunately, I did walk away from this task with a pretty hefty burn on my leg — but it’s always good to leave some room for growth.
My favorite part of the preparation for a fashion show is the all-hands-on-deck nature. The moments where I get to pitch in are the most rewarding, whether I’m zipping up dresses, adjusting trains, or removing last minute wrinkles. Strangely, I find it to be quite healing. For the longest time, my life revolved around playing basketball, leaving me with many wonders about the what-ifs of my childhood. It’s comforting to be welcomed into new team environments, even as a beginner.
My goal for the day was to stockpile as much social media content as possible. With my phone glued to my hand, I was ready to capture behind the scenes videos, b-roll content, candid photos — the whole nine yards. One moment, I’d pull a model to film a quick clip, and the next I’d record five different angles of fabric close-ups. Eventually, I’d get to sit down and edit all of these scraps into TikToks and reels, but the possibilities of video ideas were sparking all day.
Time passes very quickly in the bustling environment, so before I knew it, I was preparing for the start of the show. My boss was kind enough to let me wear a dress from her line, so I got to wear a sparkly silver gown that made me feel like a real-life mirror ball. I was also test-running a new pair of heels, which is a risky gamble, but they ended up being so comfortable. The stars seemed to be aligning for me.
When 6 p.m. rolled around, it was red carpet time. I’d never witnessed a red carpet before, and I was stunned. The mere sighting of the step and repeat had me astonished. The carpet moved with precise efficiency, mimicking exactly what I’d seen on TV. The shutters and flashes of the cameras set the scene even more.
Half an hour later, we took our places for showtime. Our group was modeling two different clothing lines during the show, which made for quick-changes, high-adrenaline, and organized chaos. My job was super simple: find a good spot in the audience, stay out of the photographers’ ways, keep a steady hand, and record everything! I was balancing two cell phones, snapping photos and videos simultaneously.
While watching the show, I remembered a lyric from Taylor Swift’s “Welcome to New York.” In her ode to the city that never sleeps, she sings: “the lights are so bright, but they never blind me.” This sentiment was close to my heart as each model walked the runway. I was concentrated on keeping focused lighting and a firm grip on my phone, but I couldn’t help but take in the scene: the designers, models, and photographers who had dreamed of this moment, whether it was their first NYFW or their fiftieth. And then there was me, who’d never thought to dream of something like this, but knew I was experiencing something special. It’s not every day that I get to see so many people’s hard work come to fruition at once.
I knew exactly what Swift meant. I was standing under the brightest lights I’d ever seen, feeling their warmth settle over the room, but I didn’t feel like I was drowning. The lights weren’t blinding, but clarifying; they showed me why I should never dim the spark inside of me that dreams of more stages like these.