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Hilarious article from The Independent :-)
Independent.co.uk
The strangest jobs in fashion
Soup
fetcher, iPod nanny, pencil escort... if you want to break into the
world's most glamorous industry, says Victoria Herbert, you've got to
be ready to do anything
Sunday, 6 April 2008
You are to take this pencil to our offices on Mercer Street. Mr
Lagerfeld will be waiting there to sign the copies. When you have
delivered the pencil you are to come straight back ? pick up my soup
first: you know the drill: no meat, no fat, medium size ? and under
absolutely no circumstances are you to speak to him. There's a
limousine outside for you now."
This probably sounds
like a hammed-up excerpt from Ugly Betty or The Devil Wears Prada. It
isn't. It's the real-life experience of a friend of mine who wound up
interning at the hip New York style magazine V and its artier sister,
Visionaire.
Having spent months packing up clothes following
photoshoots, her moment of glory finally came via this mission to
deliver to Karl Lagerfeld his favourite pencil, in order that the
fashion designer could sign copies of the Visionaire issue he'd curated
with his signature flourish. "It was a 2B... but I never saw him,"
recollects my friend.
Television shows, films and all manner of
chick-lit books regularly plunder the fashion industry, lapping up its
bitchy quips, sybaritic protagonists and "to die for" jobs ? which
typically tread a wafer-thin line between specialist skills and
servitude ? and interest in it seldom wanes. But why? Well, as my
friend's experiences illustrate, nowhere does the "fact is stranger
than fiction" adage ring truer than in the fashion industry. This owes
much to the foibled traditions of couture that live on, but also to the
superstar status of today's designers, who now have the music and
acting glitterati eating out of their hands ? Kanye West's docility at
being refused entry to the recent show being a case in point: "I
totally love and respect any designer that won't let me come 2 there
[sic] show," he blogged. "Balenciaga is one of the illest lines right
now and I don't feel any type of way about not getting in."
In
a bid to dispel/perpetuate some of the allure ? and, perhaps, make you
thank the lucky stars for your own glamour-free job ? here we present
five fashion-industry roles so bizarre they could only be true.
Queen of braids
It's
a job thus far only undertaken by one 75-year-old woman who has been
hand-weaving braids (co-ordinating trims for belts, bags, jackets) for
the couture faction of one of Paris's most esteemed fashion houses
since 1947. While this all sits rather well with the artisanal mystique
of couture, there is the very real concern that this tradition may die
with this particular lady, as all attempts by others to learn her craft
have failed. Should you succeed, you will be expected to work from the
refuge of your farmhouse, where you will spend two weeks before every
show weaving day and night at your specially customised loom.
The woman's eye
One
of the world's best-known fashion photographers counts a so-called
"woman's eye" among his army of minions. The role in question involves
advising the artiste on the specific type of sexiness women best
respond to. This could be a view on how much flesh should be exposed,
the pose, or the exact level of airbrushing needed in post-production.
A natural role, then, for, well, a woman you might think. Not when your
boss is a superstar fashion photographer and his preference of office
eye candy is male.
The iPod nanny
It's a
well-documented fact that a certain fashion designer has in excess of
100 iPods. It should therefore come as little surprise that said
designer employs someone to look after them, in the manner of a
librarian. Your initial gig, should you choose to pursue this career
course, will be to upload your boss's CD collection on to the gadgets.
Thereafter, your role will be to source new beats to keep your employer
at the fore of sonic cool.
Notebook monkey
No
fashion editor worth her Manolos would ever be seen using an item so
decidedly passé as, say, a pen. Step forward the note-taker. An
enviable entrée into the world of magazines, this is the kind of role
that will have every wafer-thin arriviste wishing they'd listened to
their parents' advice and taken a secretarial course on leaving school.
Side-effects of being a fashionista's scribe include an inability to
ever write in complete sentences again and fingers as noduled as
Victoria Beckham's feet.
The dress namer
This role
could spring only from the lavish regions of haute couture, given the
level of ceremony that accompanies the painstaking fabrication of the
world's most elaborate garments. Working for a major-league fashion
designer, Monsieur or Madame Le Dress-Namér is employed to find every
couture outfit an appropriate sobriquet. One recent winter collection
boasted names such as Prince du Sang and Prince de Bohème. A job role
de trop? Perhaps, but when you're spending upwards of £15,000 on a
frock, is it not fitting that it be titled as a work of art?
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