Midtown Girl

The brisk wind this morning should have been some clue as to how hectic my day would be. The streets were packed and my feet still sore from rummaging in China Town yesterday .

First days are always tricky. There's that crucial first impression, firm but not bone-breaking handshake, and the illusion of confidence you portray so as to not appear completely incompetent. All the way up on the 7th floor in an old warehouse type studio sits the most eccentric and quaint design house with old wooden floors and full of dusty books, worn in leather shoes and bags, corroded metal signs, weathered shelves and odds and ends you can only find at the estate sale of someone with a sharp eye for hidden beauty.

The entrance is calm and quiet. But behind the white door that reads "leave closed ALWAYS" lies the hum of a cutter, the clink of a hanger on a garment rack, and the swoosh of an empty skim non-fat latte with three shots of god knows what from starbucks hitting the stainless steele trashcan.

Forget the disillusioned stigma of glamour and fabulousness that comes with all who live and breathe fashion. The fashion industry doesn't wait. Not for anything. The fashion industry abides by the wisdom : "use your resources." And for those who abide in Manhattan, the city is your resource, your playground, your enemy. Not an evil enemy, but an enemy who holds the key to something you want, nay something you need. Because you see a button isn't just a button, red silk shantung isn't just red silk shantung- it all holds meaning and value and speaks to people who choose to listen.

As I pounded the streets of the garment district delivering fabric, sourcing fabric, taking garments to Yigal's photoshoot, I realized something. Though not profound, in the midday heat and on a stomach begging for a lunch break, I realized the fashion industry is just like life, decisions must be made in the spur of the moment, you always hurry up to wait, someone is always higher than you on the totum pole, and you always put in so much work to seem effortlessly chic.

As for my place notched out on the totum pole...sitting pretty at the bottom, knowing it takes years to become an "overnight success."

Lunch on the steps

Chinatown.