An Apology (But Blame The Parents)

Firstly, sorry for getting all behind and suddenly dropping off a cliff (in metaphorical blog terms, rather than actual death and tragedy rebel Without A Cause terms). My family arrived and I have suddenly turned into acting tourguide so everything got a bit hectic. So, as ever, you can blame the parents. Just like in Rebel Without a Cause! omg the connections are just coming in so thick and fast; you'll just never guess what we did last night. Actually, I'm afraid you'll have to wait to find out because if I start at the end and then just hop about in time for a bit until I have said everything there is to say about my last days in NY, it might get a bit confusing, and although you're all bright and can definitely cope, I never fully understood Doctor Who so I would get totally lost and feel like I'm floating in a very disorganised and unstructured mess and start repeating things. Which would clearly be awful because a) I can't deal with that amount of chaos (my need for routine again, can definitely blame the parents for that one) and would get all anxious and b) anyone who is using valuable time to read my partly nonsensical ramblings on New York would definitely not appreciate repetition and it would be highly dull and c) catching up might actually take, like, four weeks anyway because I have done so much and there is so much to talk about and so much to catch up on that repetition would make it take, like, four months. And no one wants that. Aaaaand in four months time who knows what I'll be doing or where I'll be and I will probably want to be focusing on that. So to recap; no jumping about in time, Doctor Who style.

So. Where were we??

Oh yes, that was it.
I'd been given my new silk romper and was uber excited to trry it on.
After the designer had left I got back to work, doing some planning for the min Editorial Awards Harper's are entering, getting together all the hard copies and electronic copies that were needed for each category and entry.
I did more of my sad 'last time' rituals. Whenever I go anywhere I get really attached to it and have to, like, say goodbye to my toilet.
I took some photos of my view but I doubt it will do it justice. Standing there, on the 25th floor of Hearst Tower, overlooking the Manhattan skyline on my last day, I felt suddenly empowered. I had been shit scared two weeks ago, and yet here I was, alive. In fact, more than alive; I had totally owned it. The whole experience had been incredible and I had done it and, I think, done it well. I gave myself a pat on the back (in my head. I had, thus far, managed to keep my total insanity hidden from view of the Harper's office and appeared quite sane. I did not intend to ruin that at the last moment).

Amazingly, a hurricane was predicted for that afternoon. Lisa was, she informed me, terrified. hurricanes are not regular occurrences in New York City and I too was not looking forward to that. I'd felt that I was actually inside the eye of the storm whilst the thunder had raged and the lightening struck on Monday (twenty five floors is high up) so I'm imagining that a hurricane at that height would have been scarier. There was mass hysteria. Hurricane-alert was a new fave excuse to do no work.

My last task at Harper's was back with the archives. Me and the archives became bessies. I had another huge list from a woman called Hanna of issues I needed to pull and helped her sort them and take them to her office on the 18th floor. I also made friends with an intern shadowing a scary looking lady in blood red shoes. Typical me to achieve that on the last day.

Then, saving the best till last, Lisa took me on a massive tour of the Harper's office. We saw the production team and the art department and the stylists and the make up artists and the beauty department and the birth place of all the features and a tall beautiful girl with short dark hair cropped close to her face who looked like Audrey Hepburn and was wearing zebra print trousers being photographed. We saw girls pulling out clothes from rails of choice and lying them on the floor to piece together outfits, a feature on denim and diamonds (big next season: you heard it here first folks), hundreds of hats, a wall dedicated to Manolo's, an entire section of floor space devoted to the red soles of Louboutin, belts, gloves, even some fur coats and a cupboard for beauty products bigger than my kitchen. Lisa also got the heads of each department to explain to me what they do and how they do it and show me what they were working on, which was so interesting and quite exciting. I loved seeing the ideas for a feature based on the statues on fifth avenue take shape and develop, and it's so cool to think that it will appear as a fully fledged feature in a few months time, but that I've already seen it. I'm in the know, me, what can I say. I also saw how much putting together the magazine is like piecing together a puzzle. My head hurt a little bit afterwards. But ohh it was so exciting, I loved it!! I felt so like I was actually a part of the magazine and I was all like, ooh I think I can see myself here, in this environment, as a career. Certainly, the features and editorial is something I would love to do, although I am aware that I'll have to do soooo much work to be able to do anything like that.
I do think it's unfair the way the fashion magazine industry is portrayed; it's run by smart, intelligent individuals who have to work hard and think hard. It's not about matching a bag to a coat and it's not run by shallow people obsessed with clothes and being thin and it isn't like 'The Devil Wears Prada'. *Rant over* Ahem. Sorry about that, I'll sit back down now...

My tour ended at 4.45 on the dot and I was suddenly like waaaa this means I'm leaving for the last time! I wouldn't tell Lisa I'd see her tomorrow and I'd never hurtle down the 25 floors so fast that my tummy flipped again. It was all very emosh. No really.
Lisa gave me a card and an absurdly heavy wrapped present and a hug, which was sweet. I logged off and shut down my jazzy Mac a final time and, taking a quick snap of the huge 'Bazaar' emblazoned on the imposing glass door of the equally imposing office in which I had just spent two weeks, left Hearst Tower.

I couldn't believe it was all over and that I had actually done that and that it had gone so horribly fast. I'm an emotional wreck (trust me, that is not exaggeration) so it will come as no surprise to those who know me that, as I headed for my daily post work frappe, I had tears emptying themselves down my cheek. They were neither happy tears nor sad tears, just a complete well-of-emotion-tears.

Always good to be in touch with your emotions, I find.
Yes that includes when watching the Pampers ad. You can probably blame the parents for that too, actually.

Wise Words and Inspiration from Valentino

I went print crazy today and wore my low back Aztec print vest with my silk and fringed purple baroque swirl kimono and white city shorts. I love a good bit of print and colour clashing.

I have also been inspired by Harper's to get more red in my wardrobe. And like, actually wear it too. Valentino said that 'red is the colour that never fades into the background' and I think that it's time I stop fading into the background and started standing out a bit more. No one's ever going to fall in love with me if they can't even see me.

This inspiration came about because a recent Harper's image was needed for a banner on the website, so it needed to work horizontally. It was my task to set about finding this image, which was lovely because I got to trawl through the well section - the bit with all the beautiful pictures and fashion shoots - of all the magazines. I found a couple which I thought might work and Lisa and I then went through them and picked out our favourites. It took me nearly all day which, seeing as how I'm the girl who takes several old copies of Vogue and Harper's and Elle babysitting with me so that I can spend hours tearing out photos and images and ads to stick on my wall, it was pretty much a perfect day.

The final choice that they chose from the two pictures we sent them was of a girl standing in the desert in a scarlet chiffon gown that was caught spectacularly in the wind. I guess Valentino knows his stuff...

Failing the red tactic, I might just go about shouting. Here, as soon as I open my mouth I get more attractive. A man serving me coffee today told me I have a 'beautiful accent'.

Then, finally, when all else has proved useless, I'll dare to stare. Several people I know swear by it.

It's Tough But Someone's Gotta Do It

On Tuesday Lisa sent me on errand. I had to take some weird like bit of paper (it might have been about people getting paid. I do not know) to a building on West 37th Street at Fifth Avenue. Hearst Tower is on West 57th at Eighth Avenue. It was an hour round trip, although I was walking quite slowly because it was quite hot and there was lots of interesting stuff to look at, like the Yayoi Kusama spotted Louis Vuitton store. In fact, I walked all the way down Fifth Avenue (which, now that I think about it, may have been a bit of a long way round and so may have also added to the journey time) and ahhh it was amazing. All the designer shops, all the beautiful window displays, all the people being whisked out of said stores and into waiting cars who just exuded money. Lots and lots of money. Economic crisis what now?

My favourite window had just one beautiful dress in it. It was flapper style, with white feathers forming the skirt, and from the drop waist up it was made of hundreds of tiny pearls. It was gorgeous and for a moment I had to stop and stare and then remind myself that it's rude to leave one's mouth open like that. It was exactly what I had imagined my prom dress to look like and almost found (and thank God I didn't found it! I love the dress I wore to our leavers ball, but I wouldn't have been able to wear it knowing that my fantasy dress existed in actuality and was horribly, horribly out of my price range).

It was such a great excursion; sipping smoothie in the sunshine as I wandered around New York is a really poor excuse for work. 

That afternoon I did more archive stuff and admin-y bits and pieces. I love sitting with the art department folk; all the pictures are stunning and the girls look gorgeous and those shoes are simply diviiine. I've also seen the editing first hand. I know we've all been told it but it's true; those long legs we're all so jel of? Yeah, they're fake. 

Perfection really doesn't exist. So that was a nice confidence boost.

There was also a raffle which, sadly, I wasn't involved in, but basically it consisted of the staff getting designer bags. Lots and lots of designer bags. Amber, who sits behind me, won the most expensive item; a huge cream leather Louis Vuitton affair which caused a little frisson of envy to pass through the office. She promptly emptied everything out of her old bag and didn't put it down for the rest of the day. 

Side note: I wore my new Mango silk coral dress with cut out back. Tres Chic. 

Last Times

omg I'm so sad. To think that this is the last time that I'll walk down Eighth Avenue to work and stop off for my fruit salad and coffee; that this is the last time I'll use my visitor card to get into Hearst Tower; the last time I'll tell the doorman to have a nice day; the last time that I'll be corrected for calling 'beets' 'beetroot' whilst ordering my salad at Balduccios; the last time that I'll suddenly catch sight of the view out of the glass walls and be totally awed.

It's so strange; I'm so comfortable here now. In the morning I greet Lisa and settle down at my desk and check my emails, and I know where everything is and how everything works and more or less who everyone is. Compared to the nervous and unsure new girl who arrived last Monday I feel so different!    

I left slightly earlier than normal so that I could buy flowers from the stall near work and Rain and I spent ages last night dithering over what to write in our thank you cards. Lisa was so sweet when I gave it all to her; all 'Ohh don't be silly you didn't have to!' and gave me a hug. I really like her, she's laid back and cool but also really on everything so she should be intimidating, but she's not, she's really sweet and has made this whole experience so worthwhile and fun for me when it could easily have been awful. 

Today her friend came in to show her some clothes from her resort collection from a design called Isola Isabella and she let me sit in. It was so exciting and they were all lovely! 

She lives on a boat because her and her husband sail those massive yachts that rich people hire out, so she's sailed the world. I'm pretty sure I'm not describing this properly, but her life sounded so exciting! I now want to go  on a boat to track wales for six weeks straight after university and then basically never get off. What a way to see the world! We had quite a long chat about my trip round Europe, with Rome apparently being her favourite city after New York. 

So her designs stemmed from watching women on these yachts and what they pack and what they actually wear, and how 'vacation' clothes need to work better. Apparently, the idea was not just 'beach to bar or day to night, but day to night and then home too'. So all the clothes were beautiful blues and corals and pinks, inspired by the cobbled streets and roof tiles of Italy, all in gorgeously soft silk fabrics. I'm not a fashion writer so I don't know how to properly describe the beautiful draping of the skirts or the perfect pleats of the silk drawstring waist shorts or the high necked low scoop back blouse which perfectly fulfilled my backless garment fantasies, but trust me, they were lovely. Lisa put on a blue maxi with a waterfall skirt over her clothes and then just kept it on for the rest of the meeting, which I loved. And I wanted to steal the silk shorts, they were so impractical and lovely that I just adored them. Thankfully, I didn't need to steal anything. They gave me a lilac silk 'romper' (which I thiiiink means playsuit) that Lisa said I had to take because I would look super cute in it and it would brighten up rainy London. And after that reasoning, how could I refuse. I'm so excited to try it on! 

Sadness

omg tomorrow's my last day! Lisa just told me she's moving house on Friday so she wont be in which means I wont be in.

Sadness!!! I can't believe it's ending already, it's gone so quickly.

I've got a box of truly British Fortnum and Mason biscuits sorted already and will write a thank you card and am going to buy flowers tomorrow morning.
So the big question now is; which planned outfit do I ditch?? This is a serious dilemma.

Harper's Fashion Inspiration

To start off the new week I wore an electric blue calf length pleated skirt, which I felt banished any Monday Morning Blues anyone else in the office might have been feeling after their long week end, with a white crochet vest. I thought it was v cool. 

I spent the day doing various bits of admin and I'm also spending a lot of time sorting out the archives, so am totally immersed in vintage Harper's, which is also v cool and total fashion inspiration: I am so feeling some drop waist beaded flapper dresses with a feather head band right now. 

I always love a good bit of vintage clothes shopping, but am feeling really fired up for a hunt now! I know there are some vintage/second hand clothes markets in the East Village on week ends; I might have to get down there next Saturday and take several hours to trawl through their goodies. Vintage New York is definitely something my wardrobe needs...

I do think that London girls have an edgier, more individual style than all the well tuned out New Yorkers I've seen. Maybe in Brooklyn and Williamsburg, where everything is renowned for being slightly more daring and bold, this isn't so much the case, but here in Manhattan the style is very cool, very fashionable, very in; very safe. Vintage, hand made or customised isn't something you see a lot of. 

Maybe that was why my Chanel inspired black and white dogtooth jacket, with my addition of sewn on fur collar, received some serious admiration. 

And I know that the jacket sounds ridiculous in this heat, but seriously, with this air con, a fur coat is needed. 

Damn. I missed a trick there. 

'Cute Jump'

I'm such a New Yorker these days.
When I leave work I 'grab' an iced coffee from Pick a Bagel and then I meander through Central Park back to my hostel, whist for breakfast I get a fruit salad or a croissant from one of the tiny stalls on Collumbus Circle. Then, in my lunch hour, I go to Balducci's, where they make the best salads of your choice (who knew dried cranberries would ever be nice in a salad?! Only in New York) and I sit on a high wooden stall in the window and watch the world hurry by and read a book.

I also love how everyone says good morning to each other! At first I was all suspicious and didn't reply other than a mumbled greeting to be read as 'stay away you perv I totally have pepper spray in my bag' but now that I've realised that it's just what's done I'm practically singing my good morning responses. This should seriously be taken up in London. Although maybe it's only successful in the sunshine. Gee that Biblical rain must really be getting y'all down...

Today I wore my Topshop jumpsuit with a pattern that looks like spaceships and Lisa said 'Cute Jump' and I was just thrilled.
It was crazy this morning with the final bits of the September Issue (capitals definitely required) being done so this afternoon I think everyone was on a bit of a comedown; I was sent out to get 5 dozen doughnuts so I think everyone was definitely in celebration mode
There's a very fabulous gay guy who waltzes about the place and who everyone clearly adores and is maybe a litttttle bit useless but kept on for his pure entertainment value, as a sort of pet.

The weather is almost as crazy as the whole September Issue debacle; it's really really reallyyyy hot but also really windy, which should be a relief but the wind is also really hot so it just feels like there is a giant breathing really heavily on the whole of New York.
Very strange.

Off for a swim... I'm itching to go for a run in Central Park to really cement my New Yorker status, but that might have to wait for tomorrow.

First Day

omgomgomg it was amazing!!

I did arrive absurdly early and nervously picked at my fruit salad and iced coffee (sorry, cawwwffee) for a bit before finally plucking up the courage to scurry through the imposing Hurst Tower revolving doors and ornate collumns.
I successfuly made it through security, who issued me with a visitor badge, and then went up the 25 floors to Harper's Bazaare.
I quickly found Lisa who is literally beyond lovely and very cool. She had glitter in her hair and all down the back of her neck, and when someone pointed this out she was all just like, yeahhh I was at a party and they strated pumping out glitter and it is a bitch to get off. And I just stood quitely, in awe of her coolness.
Then she gave me a tour and it's just like I imagined it would be!! We went through a room full of shoes, and rails of clothes in colour coded order, and girls laying out outfits on the floor, and there are mood boards leaning against the glass walls so that it looks like they're part of the New York skyline, and pictures of Kate Moss from the latest issue on the desks, and the actual editor in chief Glenda Bailey having an indepth conversation about which Dior jacket to use. I just drifted through it with this absurdly big smile on my face.

I have more to say, but I need to get to work! It's just a five minute walk from our new hostel but I need to get my morning cawwffee...
Until next time
xx

Packing Commences

Packing for New York has commenced. Keeping it simple by basically just taking everything I own.

I always get terrible Packing Stress, even when I'm only going away for a night. The terror of rejecting an item of clothing which I later discover is vital to the trip and, indeed, my very happiness, is strong. Some may even say excessively so.
But I've never been to New York before, let alone for a two week intern at Harper's Bazaar; what do I take?!
This is beyond stressful.