the not-so secret diary of a fashion intern: RANT

*At risk of sounding like I am condemning all internships, I thought I'd point out before you read this and get all anonymous, nasty comment that I am not. What I am against is working full-time, unpaid to not gain anything from it. I want to be a journalist; returning mountains of samples will not make me a better writer. Nor, do I expect to have waltzed out of university and into the fashion director's shoes. Internships should be valuable experience and a step up the career ladder. Now form your educated opinions.

I debated subtly titling this piece but decided fuck it, I need to rant and so I shall. Psych yourself for a rant. A cohesive and valid one at that.

As the HMRC released their discovery (interns exist did you know!? No shit Sherlock) last week that interns across the media and fashion sectors (amongst others) are masquerading as full time, unpaid workers, my eyes have been opened and my jaw has not left the floor.

I understand the definition of an intern to be a role that is: 1. temporary and 2. additional. Interns, by dictionary definition do not run the press agency, publication etc. They're merely an extra pair of hands in times of encroaching deadlines. They should not be a fundamental part to the daily runnings of their chosen intern host. It surfaces that the reality paints a contradictory picture.

Call it blatant ignorance or genuine naivety but fortunately for me, I have never, in all of my countless placements from nationals to locals had the misfortune of being exploited just because I was a mere intern. I obviously didn't write the cover feature and there's the standard intern / editor hierarchy but I ain't had to sack off my out-of-work life in order to get through a mountain of returns, long into the night, to this day. I don't plan to make that a reality either. This week, I met girls who for that is a weekly event. And its not even thought of as a big deal, its compulsory, part of the pay packet. Except there's no pay-packet or even a whisper of a job after months of living on next-to-nothing, so called expenses.

What gets me the most is the fact that these CEOs are most likely rolling in it, in their made to order, silk, Versace suits, no less. If you're throwing lavish events, ordering Dom Perignon on tap, you can afford to pay struggling graduates who graft their arses day in, day out, for you. Frankly, its disgusting and I refuse to be caught up in that trap.

I have reached the point now whereby I started my twelfth, (as if) internship, on Monday and got the standard, introductory Q&A. "So do you do fashion?". It makes me think, did you even read my fucking CV? In my actual response, there are two facts that leave the fashion assistant of each intern host stunned. One is that I am old enough to have a degree (I have been assumed to be school leaver, more than once). And two, it is an English degree from one of the top twenty universities in the country. You would've known this had you read my CV. The dialogue that follows usually questions why I am there in the first place.

I have began to ask myself this very question and have reached the brutally honest conclusion: I am too good to be a returns bitch. There I said it. Fair, if I wanted to be a stylist or fashion assistant I'd happily lug suitcases up and down stairs. But no ta, I do enough of that in my actual life. Once, you've done one return, you've mastered the art. It's not rocket science. And if that's all you're 'gaining' and 'learning' then what is the point? I have served my time in fashion cupboards - some sweet, some not so great and can't help but feel that I'm overqualified and under paid to be a glorified skivvy. So, I shall return to the drawing board once the festive period is done with.

Back to the initial point. It infuriates me how this whole minimum wage debate is being publicised as a new discovery. Interns have kept the fashion industry ticking over for as long as fashion week has existed but its only now that they're threatening to do something about it. Something that will actually never be enforced, as as long as there is a queue of over-keen, wannabes the fashion world and others will continue to exploit the free labour. The words catch 22 spring to mind; can't get a job with an internship, can't get one without.

Who run the fashion world? Interns do. They at least deserve minimum wage or failing that, a whisper of a job promise after a mammoth six month stint. AT LEAST. Some credit wouldn't go a miss either.

-RANT ENDS-

Thoughts? My nosy nature revels in hearing other's stories - horror and fairytale.

x

the not-so secret diary of a fashion intern:The Times Magazine

Snapping back to the mundane realities of life as glorified house-wife (to my mother), I return to tell you tales of more prosperous times c/o The Times Magazine and the LUXX lot.

I ain't acquainted with the rules and regs regarding broadcasting this sort of thing but I figure as long as keep the cover star on the down low, I am a perfectly law-abiding citizen.

So I went to the Times and had a real good time - another proverbial notch on the bed post in the chasing of the fashion journo pipe dream. A worthy and enjoyable notch nonetheless. Every internship, placement and work experience I have done have had their house-style and their way of doing things but the resounding foundation of most fashion internships is a tricky one to dodge, not unless your mummy is Alexandra Shulman (if she is- good word ehy ehy). That bursting-at-the-seams-with-thousands-of-pounds-of-exclusive-designer-samples-wardrobe, more commonly known as the fashion cupboard for which a definition along the lines of; a hideously messy, back room filled with ridiculously expensive unorganised chaos is more aptly applied.

Dare you step out of that fashion cupboard mere intern and onto the territory of the real journalists...

To be honest, I have been lucky to avoid such intern / employee hierarchies.

I have spent a lot of time in fashion cupboards though.

As resident fashion assistant, for the week, (Charlie was taken ill. Hence, their priceless offer of work experience): I returned, I courier booked, I rail shuffled, I coffee dutied (only once), I PR pestered, I also tried on a pair of miu mius and was personally invited to a potential cover shoot by LUXX's stylist- literal babe. I didn't however, write the magazine. I think it is a naive view to firstly, have in the first place but to maintain it for the duration of your time at a publication.. the road is going to be a long. Journalists are struggling to keep hold of their own jobs, why would they let someone who is essentially, a stranger, take over their regular DPS?

The curse of the fashion intern:

More often than not, internships are advertised as a potential meal-ticket to pastures new and thriving, in the exact career you're pursuing*. You're lured in with empty promises, vague job descriptions and desperate hope of a paying job, one of these days. However, more often than not, it is, in actual fact, the case that you are doing that internship host the favour - a free pair of extra hands in times of encroaching deadlines - don't be disheartened that you're not guest writing the editor's letter, nar mean?

Breaking the curse:

Keep in contact with everyone you meet. 

Perseverance will pay off.

My eyes have been opened this week. I don't know it all - no-one does.

I also need to refine my pronunciation of Parisian curators' - it's er-mes not her-mees.

Am I sacking it off? Not yet.

x

*FYI, The Times was far from this - it did exactly what it said on the tin. I am referring to the common perception of fashion internships, in general. Everywhere is different.

JUNIOR JAUNTS.

M.I.A with no real explanation. TA DA. You gots one right here.

So where did I disappear to last month?

I was in London. Fashion interning. Living the dream. Not an ounce of sarcasm intended, it really was the time offa my life. I miss it every day I trudge up to uni to be forced to sit for hours not listening to a word some linguistics keeno has to say about language. I don’t even pretend anymore. Not interested.

What was so 'amaze', you ask?

Everything.

The story goes a little bit like this...

I rocked up to Junior's, Islington office, suprisingly chirpy after eduring the notorious commute into and across London. It was hell, people are SO rude. You wouldn't dare barge into someone in Newcastle and not say excuse me, half your face would be missing. UGH.

I was to be Catherine's (Junior's fashion assistant) right hand gal. She introduced me to the team and I was welcomed with open arms. Such a lush, chilled environment. And thee most beautiful, S/S '11, childrenswear collections filled the fashion cupboard. I wanted to be five again or have my own five year old to dress head to toe in Hucklebones. I can't think of a better way to describe it than thee tba of kidswear.

To Kent we went for the Junior Design Awards, Designer winners shoot. Hever Castle was the location of choice. Beautiful surroundings on a beautiful English, summers day with the most beautiful little girl models. Claire Ray - the canniest girl, in the world, provided the grooming and Tim Marsella the man behind the lens.

My role? To be the fashion assistant's assistant which entailed being there to pin, tuck, comb, brush and grip the little divas in place. Oh, and endless games of 'want it, can't have it' whilst they patiently awaited their turn. Tim gave us a sneaky peek of the finished result before the big edit. Adorable. I haven't said 'ar that's so cute' more in my life.

The Junior Design Awards issue will be out on June 3rd and you'll see what all this hype is about.

The day at Hever was to be followed by a Press day party that stretched over the next two days. I accompanied the fashion team - Catherine, Matthew (fashion ed) and Linda (fashion director) to important meetings at various show rooms, scattered across the length and breadth of London. The team were to select A/W '12 samples to facilitate the coming season's fashion shoots.

We sat for the most amazing lunch at the Hackett show room, on Old Bond St. and sipped on Peach Bellinis as their PRs guided us through the A/W '12 collections. It was far from my idea of work.

Regrettably, missing out Harvey Nichols and Gant through having to attend a quarterly meeting, Catherine and Matthew left me to brave the press day game ON MY OWN. I nearly died. Were they really trusting me with this level of responsibility? I was flattered. Armed with directions a plenty and check-list, off I trotted to Knightsbridge.

Harvey Nicks was an army of 6ft. big names in 60 inch platforms. Dauting. No kidswear but I was happy to happy snap away Philip Lim 3.1, Alexander Wang, Nicholas Kirkwood and many more's Autumn season offerings.

Needeless to say, I loved every minute of it. The world of press days is a glamourous one. The tiniest but most delicious canapes was a common greeting. And a bag fulla a goodies - the norm farewell. Hellooo free uggs.

I also dabbled in a bit of web writing.

I want to be in London. Making money fashioning. Shopping on Bond St. - Old and New.

Q&A

How did I land this gig?

I hate when people say this but it was purely opportunist. Catherine commented on my blog and as I do for every comment I recieve, I follow it up. I'll check the blog, facebook, personal site, twitter etc. of said person. This led me to her CV which revealed an enviable list of work experience placements. I was green with envy. I emailed Catherine on the off chance she would reply with some valuable interning advice, let alone hand me one on a plate. I got very lucky which is lame but it is part of this game. She wanted me to start the following week. It was extremely last minute but I am the most impulsive person I know and I refused to let practicalities get in the way. So I upped sticks and off I went.

My advice?

Get your name out there. In any possible way that you can. If you don't shout about it, there is no one to hear it. If you're not heard the first few times which is a likely story carrying on doing it. In this day and age I think writing a blog is an absolute must. Its the single most accessible way for editors etc. to gain an idea of your capabilities. The best advice I have been given regarding this whole interning game - BE AVAILABLE AT SHORT NOTICE. And just generally keep your eyes peeled agencies and publications often advertise through twitter so I cannot reccommend that enough. I could go on forever about this. I won't. Instead drop me an email if you want more hints 'n' tips.

dressingupdressingdown@hotmail.co.uk

Bloglovin' / Facebook / Twitter

Helen,

X

monday musings 001The Curse of The Fashion Intern.

The story of my life these days sounds a little bit like this; I’m due to graduate this coming summer, have I got some cushtee-salary, graduate job lined up? Nahhh.

Having studied English Language, (more like linguistics) for the best part of the last three years, I cannot wait to close the book on the University chapter of my life. It has been the time of my life but man, has it served its time. I have lost the little enthusiasm I once had for learning the entire process that the human vocal tract implements for articulating every sound a human can possibly make. I am not even joking. For this reason, amongst a handful of other contributing factors, I am not jumping on the bandwagon that provides the attractive meal ticket to so many graduates these days. This being; the trend to bag the first, run of the mill, graduate job offered to them. This 9-5 grind has zero appeal to me when its premise is for the sake of being employed.

So what is my grand plan? Ideally graduate with a respectable degree class, complete a NCTJ course in News Journalism, preferably in Wimbledon, London, secure some solid, life-long contacts.

BOOM, my foot is in the proverbial door.

Of course this is the pipe dream. The reality is worlds apart.

The last few weeks of my life have been centred around discovering the best i.e. the quickest and easiest way into the cut-throat world of fashion journalism and it essentially, boils down to one thing; that enviable fashion intern with the big dogs. A pre-requisite for most fashiony professions.

What is meant by a fashion intern? A term used flittingly, it encapsulates all avenues of the industry. The strict definition posits “a recent graduate undergoing supervised practical training”. True, to an extent but interns can often be expected to work long hours on mundane, tedious tasks for little or no profit or credit. A pat on the back may be all it takes to have your face or name cemented into the boss’ mind when it comes to discussing potential candidates for an upcoming job role. This is a priceless prospect.

Interns are especially hot property around the time of fashion week. This is where the ongoing debate - experience vs. exploitation really adds fuel to the fire. And why? It works on the same basis as slave labour; its free. For example, why should PR companies pay their existing work force, overtime to line up the seats of every room in Somerset House when they have an abundance of willing youngsters who daren’t question working an 8am till 1am day, at their disposal? It is this willingness and the characteristic ‘I will do anything to get me where I want to go’, philosophy that stretches interns to their limits.

BBC2 aired a show in February entitled; "Who gets the best jobs", I probably watched it at the wrong time as it only reaffirmed my post-university panic. The moral of the story? Be willing to work for free, no expenses reimbursed, in London. Girish Gupta carried out four separate, unpaid, journalism internships in the big city, bed hopping from backpacker hostels to gum tree contact’s sofas. Having, in total, thirty two of his articles published with not one penny to his name. He stuck it out.

What you have to remember is that with the number of horror stories comes the odd fairytale.
Girish is now a recognised and respectable, high-flying freelance journalist including the role as foreign correspondant for The Times.

Alexandra Shulman, editor of UK VOGUE, hosted a Q&A evening via Vogue’s twitter, last week. She was inundated with questions regarding internships. The clichéd advice that have echoed many a career advisor and experienced journalist resounded; be curious, write well, work hard; all pretty obvious traits to an aspiring journalist. The light of the end of the tunnel? "You definitely don't have to do internship at Vogue to get a job here. I didn't!" Read the highlights here.

Having recently attended a conference on ‘Making it in the media’, wise words were spoken by the Managing Director of “The Press”. In response to where does the line come between experience and exploitation, he said “I would be obliged to start paying an intern at the point that their copy is published, even if it is just minimum wage”. However, it is very different story when dealing with the UK’s most well-established fashion and publishing houses. The simple reason? The demand is there.

It's all about a balance, but the trouble is knowing when that balances comes. The experience and skills gained, even if this be brewing the best cup of tea known to man, being able to cement that on your CV is invaluable. Although you can’t live without money, I dare you to ask Vogue’s Chief Exec to enlist you on payroll, it just wouldn’t happen. Their reasoning? Why should they pay you when so many others are offering it, quite literally on a plate, for nada.

In my humble opinion, I honestly think that if you’re aware of the grittier end of the industry, the fact that you have to start at the bottom and have a bit of tenacity about you, then why shouldn’t you be the one making it big.

Feel free to share your stories and experiences.
Also, if you have any advice, it would be greatly appreciated.

Facebook / Twitter / Bloglovin'

x

living for the weekend.

I finally can, hurrah. Handed my notice in at work, never to return. I've never been happier, I feel free as a bird. Had one of the best weekends I've had in a while but now I must get my head in the books.

In other news, I am nervously awaiting that all important call from ELLE. 'Hiya Helen, we want YOU'. I wish. According to their sources they are currently making a decision. Eeeek. I sound like a broken record (I am aware) but I do really appreciate it as I've never wanted anything more. I promise to sort out a giveaway soon as a proper thank you.

Leather Jacket: TOPSHOP, Jumper: New Look, Denim Shirt: Vintage, Shorts, TOPSHOP, Booties: Dorothy Perkins, Necklaces: TOPSHOP and Primark

My task this week is to get well on top of uni work so I can properly start writing again and so you can see less of this mundane ramble.

Any ideas or suggestions as to what you'd like to see here, leave in the comments. Cheers.

x

p.s. my blackberry was stolen on Saturday night which means I am so out the loop with regards to responding to email / tweets / comments / messages / friends requests etc etc. so apologies are due.

pretty pictures.

Boring day, boring post.

I have spent the day shopping in Newcastle. I'll show what I treated myself to at a later date. I am bored of the high-street or it may be shopping in general. It still don't stop me.

I am running low on inspo these days. I have a few ideas in the pipe line but am being too lazy to sit down and properly write them out.

Instead, here are some photographs of an artsy / inspirational / vintage nature.

Images: weheartit.com

Again, a huge thank you to all of you who have voted for me to win a sixth month, paid internship at ELLE magazine. Dream come true? Too right. Keep on spreading the world to everyone in your life. It takes literally two seconds to cast your vote HERE. I have managed to maintain fifth position, let's see what we can do. Two little days left. I am becoming quite anxious.

Ooh and also any ideas for a giveaway? Lemme know in the comments.

x

dead to the world.

I had planned to do this on Friday but my camera was outta juice. It was my Little Kirst's twenty first on Thursday night so we standardly put on quite a show. I managed to man up the morning after and throw this together. I am so bored of my wardrobe. I am compiling a wish list as we speak. Someone gimme some dollar dollar cash?

 

Cardi: Mummy's, Jeans and Pearls: TOPSHOP, Shirt and Bag: Vinatge, Loafers: M&S, Lace Socks: New Look

I have finally had my hair cut, so I am no longer sporting the wannabe ballerina 'do. Although I will miss it.

Thank you again for voting for me in the ELLE intern competition. I am still fifth which in itself I think is a decent achievement. Not to big myself up or anything. One week today and I promise you will hear no word of it. I just really want it and need your support. CHYAZ.

VOTE HERE 

I take back what I said yesterday about the high-street and the flatform. Today on my lunch break, I accidentally ended up in TOPSHOP's shoe lounge (absolute devil, its literally the shop next to my work). Moral of the story; they've jumped on the badwagon. Here they are. I like them. I want them.

Maybe just maybe the flatform trend will actually oust the wedge / platform this year.

yum yums.

I am increasingly becoming obsessed with doc martens. Do I, don't I? It's the question of whether they will look hot to trot or transform me into a lesbian.The short hair doesn't help my case.

Boots and shoes aside. The quintessentially British brand have only gone and extended their portfolio to the bag department; a marker of their 50th anniversary.

Highly covetable and incredibly collectable with only a measely 350 being released worldwide.

Boohoo. They should def take this mainstream.

The cherry red would be my pick.

Thank you all so much to those who have voted for me in the ELLE intern competition. I am fifth according to today's counts. One week today and I'll stop blagging your heads about it. But until then please please please please pleeeaaase keep spreading the word, to literally everyone. I am etenrally grateful, it is just the sort of break I need. 

VOTE HERE.

To show my appreciation for your overall support in my blog etc., I am in the process of organising a giveway so watch this space. It should be sorted mid-week. If I get my arse in gear. 

make my life?

 Literally.

Pretty please with a cherry on top.

Lemme escape from the grind of uni of analysising baby babble (no joke) and live the dream.

I will love you forever. All you need to do is click HERE and choose the option of PICK ME at the end of my entry. It will take two tiny seconds. Spread the joy to family, friends, lovers etc etc. I can't tell you how much I want this.

So much appreciation,

p.s. apologies on the lack of interesting posts, I've not done much but revise, eat and sleep too much. That will all change after today when I'm released from the clutch of exams tomorrow. I can't wait to get my life back.