January 17, 2013

Internship @ Vogue: my experience

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Have you ever experienced such an intense déjà vu which makes you doubt about the date written black on white on the calendar right in front of you?

It happened to me this morning. With a cup of coffee in one hand, I was reading the daily news on my netbook. An usual overview of the usual websites: WWD flash news, Garance Doré new post, Scott Schuman shots. Before turning it off and start with my day, a quick look at Vogue.it

Daily news, horizontal*: Vogue Italia, internships start again.

I warn you in advance, this is going to be the longest post I've ever written**, so make yourself comfortable, take a cup of tea (...or coffee maybe), now or never!

Let's start from the beginning.

January 2012

At that time I was in the middle of the last year of university, the least enjoyable period indeed: there were exams to prepare, an internship to find for writing my thesis, the necessity to focus on my future plan, is economy my future for sure? Who knows... In short, pajamas and shaggy hair mode was the only constant of my days.

Vogue internship's offer, posted a few days after my 22nd birthday, had the same effect on me as a pinch on the chair: now I do it***.

The text of the application came straight off, nothing pretentious, syrupy, self-indulgent (it would not be me), just the truth, naked and raw: I'm studying economics, I've learned how to draw up a budget (with pain), but I've also realized that draw up a budget is not enough for me, fashion is my passion and I'm no more able to relegate it exclusively in my virtual box****. I'm fully concious that my future is in my hands, I'm not afraid of taking risks and much less of struggle.

I double double checked the text, you know, to avoid errors, then I submitted it. Oops, something went wrong, everything went haywire. I tried again, I rewrote it all again, with a looot of patience. Second haywire. C'mon are you kidding me? I should have made a copy of the text before loosing it all again! No way, it's not written on my destiny maybe. The next day I saw the article again. What do I do? Try again? Give up? I tried again, but this time I copied and pasted the text on another file, you know, just in case. Submitted. Your application has been successfully sent, it'll appear on bottom of the page.

Ok, they'll never never pick me*****, but at least I tried. I put my nose inside the books again.

February 2012 (or March maybe, I don't remember...)

Still university, lessons, studies, an evening job. Back home after a day equal to the previous one and to the one before, I found an email in my inbox.

I'd need to receive your institutional resume to consider the opportunity of making an internship at the journal bla bla bla... Sure, I'll send it right the way! Giulia, rejoice silently because hundreds of boys and girls might have received the same request, they'll never pick you. Go to sleep because there's a lesson tomorrow at 8:30, if you do not wake up in time to catch the bus you are lost.

In the meanwhile I found an amazing internship, it had to deal with fashion and with marketing also. Ok, it was a little challenging, but the environment was great and my days were no longer the same. I started in April, for six months. During these six months I did my best not to make a mess day after day at office, not to fall asleep during my evening second job, make the final university exams and write my thesis.

June 2012

It was the end of another working day, one hour driving in the traffic and then back home. I checked my inbox. There was an email with subject Vogue editorial internship.

Dear Giulia, I'm glad to inform you bla bla bla... My brain went blackout, I started laughing, crying, screaming and jumping, I jumped so much. I was in the kitchen, my mother was arranging something, I guess she tought that I was totally losing my sanity******.

OMG, do they pick me, don't they? I have not finished to read the email, maybe I got one of those cosmic blunders. I stopped and I started reading it again from the beginning: yes, they've picked me. I'll start on October 1st.

September 2012

On September 19th I presented my thesis, on 28th I ended up my six months internship, not without a lump in my throat, I felt like at home. On 29th I packed my bags and on 30th I arrived to Milan.

You can't even imagine how much effort I put on drag my luggage: I was so clumsy while pulling them behind, off the train and then on the subway to Buonarroti, that I would have robbed myself if I were a thief, I was a perfect walking target. And so it happened. After five minutes on the italian fashion capital's ground, they tried to rob me: but I say, what did you think to find in the pockets of my yellow and black flowers' coat? Did you guess I was taking my phone or the money to pay the rent maybe? Clumsy yes, stupid no.

October 1st, 2012

I woke up early, I had to go to the Human Resources' office first, at Piazza Castello, and then to the journal, at Piazza Cadorna. I didn't know Milan so much, but I tought I couldn't lose myself, anyway I'd have got there beforehand, I'm used to arrive beforehand. Unfortunately I spent too much time trying to choose what to wear and I wasted all the additional time... I got out.

I opted for high heels because who knew which was the dress code, but they were not one of those super elegant heels so they were a fair compromise.

I got out the subway at Castello station, because the address was Piazza Castello, right? Damn, Piazza Castello is huuge, should I go left or right? I asked for help to a couple of policemen: it's on the left (thank God...I was walking to the right).

I walked worrying to arrive late, I had the anxiety of not being able to arrive early actually, with high heels, and hot flashes, why is rain flowing down from my forehead?! Precisely when you need to make a good impression of yourself you look a mess, congrats!

Formalities completed I went to the journal, realizing that if I had stopped at Cadorna, instead of Cairoli Castello station, I would have saved a lot of way and sweat, well now I know.

I went inside out of breath, it was even better than a dream because it was reality.

They made me wait sitting on a couch, so I took this chance to regain a normal color (which is pale white for me), breathe and look around. I waited for someone to come and take me to the office*******. Right when I was losing my hopes a girl came running, she seemed super easy, nice, for sure she was wearing a great outfit. I followed her and since that moment my month began.

Here the story ends because I don't want to ruin the surprise to anybody. If any of you is thinking about trying this way, which I would advise you from my heart, he or she must be able to wonder in front of everything they would ask him or her to do: for me it has been a pleasure to do so.


* as they usually say.
** not that I'm usually stingy with words.
*** they will never pick me.
**** that I don't even have time to update.
***** damn, how many people wrote?!
****** she would not even have been entirely wrong to think about it.
******* I waited quite a long time.

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