I write typing with one hand. My train is standing room only, there may be more misspellings here than usual. Whatefer. My standing feet are in the right bottom corner.
10am: model fittings begin. We just lost another model. Miscommunication. I find over and over that when I work with people who speak another language, we communicate better. Extra time spent on understanding and no one takes clarification personally. But get a bunch of English speakers around a model board and assumptions behind words can result in missteps. Often.
Lunch: it’s arrived did you now steamed bok choy is now $20? Don’t even get me started on chicken broccoli. The foods wafting in from the kitchen but the fittings are spaced so we’re shoving dumplings between pinnings. I’m nervous about greasy hands. But eating is important
Afternoon News: the news is heavy. Sometimes fashion Is a distraction, sometimes it feels……. I remind myself that this is why i’m glad we’re independent, and that we can make it more than banter about pink as the new black. It also means I dont have to pretend like we’re saving the world. Just people here.
The French model. Honestly he can say anything and it just sounds so beautiful.
3-4: pricing the collection. I’m fidgety at the computer with Karolina, i want to play with models, not margins. We bring over Elaine to discuss, this is like a game of Jenga, only we don’t get to laugh and take shots.
5-8: final fittings for the day. The set designer has sent over the proposed visuals and fuck ive so many thoughts. I run to train and make with 1minute to spare. I get so deep in my responding, redrawing, my music so loud, I nearly miss my stop. I would have been fucked. The last time i did this I got locked in an empty train for 1 hour at grand central - I literally never saw all the people exit the train, I was so in my head. When I finally looked up I was in a locked train and had to wait until security could come let me out. WTF. Complete inattentiveness to full absorption. Please don’t comment and give me a medical name for this, it is what it is at this point in my life and I’m ok.
9pm: arrive home and find the shittiest tv I can find to relax. So it’s America’s next top model, a guarantee my head will clear. By 10 frank says if im going to fall asleep he’s going to exit Miss Jay having a meltdown.
Morning. It’s 9/11. My memories here are intense, but here’s something I’m grateful for- that this did not happen in the age of social media.
My first fitting is at 10. I will focus on models, but this day is always with me from 24 years ago. Bright, sunny and crisp. Not unlike today.