I was inspired by Smoothoprtr's 10 Things Karl could do without thread. I read this article a few weeks ago and thought you might get a laugh.
The strangest jobs in fashion
Sunday April 6, 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 *****y 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?
http://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/fashion/features/the-strangest-jobs-in-fashion-804275.html
ILLUSTRATION BY NEAL FOX
NYmag's photo of Karl w/his 100 ipods.
The strangest jobs in fashion
Sunday April 6, 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 *****y 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?
http://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/fashion/features/the-strangest-jobs-in-fashion-804275.html
ILLUSTRATION BY NEAL FOX
NYmag's photo of Karl w/his 100 ipods.
- Dear Monsieur Lagerfeld......