Style: September 07, 2018

STYLE | travel 115
Hopping on the back of a moped with a clothing sample to drop off
at a magazine was a daily occurrence and, coincidentally, an incredible
way to see the city (even if helmet hair wasn’t envied back at the
showroom). I’ll never forget one particular trip that occurred less than
an hour before the Chanel fashion show began, across town at the
Grand Palais.
A VIP guest called the showroom in a panic. Her vintage Diane Von
Furstenberg wrap dress had been less ironed, more cremated, and thus
she had nothing to wear to this highly anticipated show. We knew that
a white, wide-legged jumpsuit from the upcoming collection would do
the trick. So, I zipped to her hotel suite, jumpsuit underarm. A glorious
bouquet of white roses with a heartfelt thank-you note was delivered
on behalf of the guest, just moments after the show.
Fashion week after-parties roared on until 4am most mornings.
Thanks to espressos, complimentary hotel perfumes, a fresh rail of
Diane Von Furstenberg clothes each day, and ‘undone’ hair and makeup
in favour with the French, we were – fortunately – able to roll into
the showroom without raising any perfectly bushy eyebrows.
I finished the internship with a macaron-induced muffin top, blistered
feet, a few items of clothing from the collection, and a new-found love
for the industry. I couldn’t wait to secure my next internship, which
little did I know, would take me to the Big Apple…
I finished the internship with a
macaron-induced muffin top, blistered
feet, a few items of clothing from the
collection, and a new-found love for
the industry.