Tag Archives: work

Shaking, Not Breaking

When it comes to natural disasters, New York has fared pretty well over the years. She comes out with minor scrapes and bruises but mostly, she keeps her good looks. Maybe it’s because she’s very urban or maybe it’s because her inhabitants are as strong as well-fed oxen. Whatever the case, it takes a lot to shake her. Today, New York has faced her first real threat in a long time and she goes by the name of Sandy. Dubbed affectionately as “Frankenstorm,” Hurricane Sandy has been tearing up the east coast since earlier today, this October twenty-ninth. While I have no clue of the full damage she has incurred, I hope for everyone’s safety and strength through these next few days. I’ve been fortunate enough to not have had any harm inflicted on me but Sandy has turned my life upside down in a different, not quite bodily way that is scary, enlightening, and informative all at the same time.

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Loving and Leaving

It’s been far too long since my last post and to that fact, I can only say that I’ve been very, very busy. School and my internship ended exactly a month ago and while that should’ve freed up my time exponentially, I’ve been in whirlwind ever since. My part-time (albeit amazing) job has dominated most of my time; our grand opening in Grand Central happened two weeks before Christmas and due to the nature of the season, I was working forty-hour weeks (note: I loved those gorgeous paychecks). I was also commuting from Long Island because I, sadly, moved out of my little Manhattan hideaway – so. tack on an additional two hours to my already long 9-hour days and you get a very tired Jenna with not a lot of free time.

Regardless of the little time I was getting at home, I can honestly say that the past few months, especially this last one, at my job have been my lifeline and the incredible people I met there have really restructured my thoughts on going abroad. My last day at work was Friday and when I walked into work early in the day, I wasn’t sure they were going to take me back upon my return to the states; by the end of the day, my doubts were quashed and my managers, my coworkers – my friends were all saying they’d see me in May. They are truly great people with greater hearts than most. My only upset with them is that they are simply more faces and personalities I will miss when I take off.

However, despite my missing them, they have (re)taught me the valuable lesson that new people are only new for so long before they become friends and loved ones. So, my countdown begins – seven more days until I meet the friends and loved ones of my future.

Turn and face the strain

Halfway through the semester and right on schedule, I’m at my breaking point. The past two months have been a whirlwind of craziness, busy-ness, and overall chaos. Luckily, I’ve proved to be incredibly nomadic amidst all the mayhem which has been keeping this breakdown at bay; I’ve been living in the city, going back and forth from Long Island, briefing in Boston, and currently, I’m in Baltimore.

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Diary of an Intern

Once a week, I’m going to post an essay on a random topic; it may be fiction or non-fiction. This week, the essay is about a day in the life of a fashion intern.

                                                                                                                                       

Wake up at six thirty in the morning. Hop in the shower, excited for the day. Slip into your carefully crafted outfit that functions as both chic and comfortable; you want to be ready for anything but you want to look good doing it. Grab your Metrocard, head for the door, and arrive at your building at a little past eight. You get yourself some coffee and make your way to the elevators. The doors open on your floor and the day begins.

You venture into the office to find racks and racks of luxurious clothes crammed together while other interns and harried assistants run past you. Your jacket gets thrown haphazardly on the nearest desk chair, which is already stacked with look books waiting to be sorted. You trip over several pairs of Louboutins as you get sent back downstairs to get coffee for the editors. What are you doing, fixing your tights? They NEED their coffee NOW.

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