hello I guess

Wait,

you guys are getting paid?

When I got my first ever Paris fashion week invite, it seemed like my golden ticket to the charlie chocolate factory. I booked my easyjet from Berlin, got a 30 Euro a night airbnb bought a new outfit and was on my way. It took me a few shows to figure out that the “ST” on my invites stood for “standing”, but I was so oblivious to how everyone else “did fashion week”, that I was just happy to be in the room. Looking back, the ignorance was bliss. The following years, while they were stepping stones to my dream career, were often spent looking at everyone around me, through the screen, with envy. Sponsored flights, expensive gifts, front row seats, famous friends, thousands of likes, car service, brand trips, the list goes on.

Fast forward.

I feel the tears building up, looking down at my shaking hands shifting between the uber and G7 apps, while panic texting my management on whatsapp. All i could think was “do not get your mascara tears on the samples”. My reserved car never showed up, all other apps had waiting times, my sheer outfit was not fit for the metro, 3 kilometers walking in those heels was unthinkable. I was basically naked, felt strangers’ eyes on me as the tears started rolling down my face, I was about to miss a show of an LVMH brand. One that we had worked two years to get me in. Full ugly cry mental breakdown in the street. In hindsight it was maybe not that big of a deal and writing this down, it all seems so out of touch, but imagine you finally got the meeting with the dream client of yours and you’ll have to tell them “I couldn’t get an uber”. The pressure I had put on myself, to attend a fashion show in loaned clothes, to post free content, while spending money to be in Paris, with the feeling that I had just really blown my chance, was the actual thing that was out of touch. Why would I put myself in the hunger games every few months?

Invites

Life got a little easier for me when I realised that invites are a fight for everyone. No exception. Unless you’re an EIC, a VIC or a VIP under contract. It is a battle to get a ticket. Which is what no one is talking about. As talent, it’s your job to make it seem that, of course, I am a MiuMiu girl! Or Dior, or Gucci. No one ever mentions that they, or their management, had to beg, follow up five times before even getting a response. Rarely anyone ever communicates that their invite came the morning of the show and they just rushed to make it work. Did you know that there are waitlists for shows? Sounds not very Chanel but yes. You’ll be waitlisted even there. And for your own ego reasons, you don’t bring it up to others. No one can know I was a waitlister! What would they think of me! Your attitude should be “Oh, me? I actually don’t even request the shows, they just send it to me each season! With a gifted bag, of course.” And I also had assumed that once I’m in, I’m in for good. But every season is different, you have to prove yourself and your desirability, your demand, every few months. You could get princess treatment one season and the next there is “limited capacity due to a smaller venue this season”. And that’s understandable, the brands have to sell.

Dressing

I’m sure by now everyone watching through the screens is aware that these clothes we wear are to be returned the next day. It is a huge honour to be dressed, but there are levels to this shit. If you’re important, you get an in person fitting, with multiple choices that were picked for you, according to your style. If you’re low in the food chain, you’ll get sent grainy pictures of some leftovers (anything that the VIPs and million dollar girls didn’t pick) and saying no is not really an option with powerful brands. They are all sample size, which luckily I can fit into (without breathing), but if you can’t, that’s on you. The big people get sent hair and makeup artists by the brand, if you’re smaller, you’ll just figure it out. And while these things seem not important, they do contribute to your confidence. Wearing an outfit you would have never chosen yourself, that doesn’t fit right, in front of photographers and next to all these picture perfect people. Yes, you could wear your own, but that means no photocall for you, or even offending the brand. I did not know the importance of “being dressed” by the brand in the early years of my career and often opted out, which has really slowed down the process of building brand relationships. I did not really understand my job, the job of an influencer- I was there to promote and sell the last collection-

not to promote myself.

Travel and accommodation

I learned over the years that in fact not everyone flies on their own budget. But I also learned that some people make it seem like they are travelling on a brand's dime when in reality they don’t. Like anything in fashion, there are a lot of unrealistic standards (such as pretending you can live off of a fashion journalist's salary). I thought I had figured out after a few seasons that I am the only one investing so much of my money in order to make it to fashion week, and that most others had their flights and hotel paid for by brands. And there are many talents that simply won’t travel unless their expenses are covered, but there are equally as many crashing on people’s couches while pretending to be on an exclusive trip. It just depends on the food chain, again. If you’re a major talent, you get flights, hotel, driver, everything covered. It makes for a weird environment when you’re all sitting next to each other at a show, knowing every single person has a different kind of deal.

Seating

If you’re lucky enough to have gotten out of your “ST” lifestyle, the fight is far from over. I always had the attitude that I am lucky to be in the room. And while that is still true, fashion week is an investment and where you’re seated (and with who), affects how you get paid on other jobs. So it is important. Which is why often talents (and others) go to great lengths to make it to the front row. Some just make it to the front row over social media (by cutting out the heads in front of them for the instagram story), while others arrive late to the show on purpose in order to act confused and have the PRs let them sit anywhere because the show is about to start. Why does it matter? Because only the front row gets photographed. Because other people see you sitting there, in the important seats, giving you importance in their minds. And then later on getting you the important jobs. A show’s seating arrangement is a real life hierarchy.

Personalities

Well, at least everyone is happy to be in the room, right? I have never been so bamboozled as to find out that people’s online personas do not match their real life attitudes most of the time. And often I can’t even blame them. Fashion week breeds insecurities, and insecure people act in insecure ways. I was lucky enough to find my friends in the industry, but the kind of backstabbing and egotistical behaviour we all witness on the daily can be scary. The entitlement of how talents act or speak with PRs, the pushing through other people because you deserve to go in first, I always thought it would get better when I “move up the ranks” but mostly it didn’t.

The content

You have to make it look easy. You have to have engaging content, you have to post in real time, otherwise no one cares, every outfit has to wow the audience, you have to have better engagement than on the last post. Thank god I have never developed the so-called “posting anxiety”, and have an incredibly supporting audience, but after all of the real life action, the real work as a talent starts after. Which many underestimate. You get measured, and invited back, according to your online performance. And if you flop, there are 100 people ready to take your seat next season!

I think there is a difference between being ungrateful and acknowledging that the environment of fashion week can mess you up (big time). It is a constant game of comparing yourself, and getting confused between what someone tells you you’re worth and what you think is your worth. The only thing that really helps is some form of detachment to the outcome of things, but how can you be detached if this is the world you’ve been dreaming of. I know many people that tell me quitting fashion weeks has made them a lot happier, but to me, all the stress and inflated egos are nothing compared to the joy and rush I feel entering a show venue and knowing that I get to be part of a moment that hundreds of people have worked on for six months. I will do it as long as it feels like

getting a tour of the charlie chocolate factory-

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