Creepy to the nth Degree, OR That Time I Sat in on a Fashion Shoot

After a slow-ish first few weeks at the office this summer, shit suddenly got very real. In the space of three days, I’ve (kind of) worked at a photo shoot, written technical details and copy for a buttload of new products, and dragged my ass down to Washington Square Park with a few other interns to sweat it out in the sun and talk to people about a relaunched shoe brand.

I think I should back up a little and say that I work at a New York fashion house, just so all of this has context and makes sense.

The company was shooting some test images (I think) for fall coats and some e-commerce stills for menswear, and since I was on the same floor with a laptop, writing down details about some shoes, I thought I’d sit around and watch. I think–or rather, I hope–I looked calm, but I was geeking out on the inside like you would not believe.

The bloke on the left is completely blocking any view of the model. This is the problem with trying to take creeper photos of skinny people.

Basically, it was like the fashion magazines I used to collect in high school came to life. Arghhincoherentkeyboardsmashingawefjalsnfd

Dressing/styling room contents.

I wanted to take pictures of the models themselves–a male model from the Czech Republic and a female model from Brazil–except I thought that would be creepy to the nth degree. I controlled myself in order to appear like a decent human being (see, I can do that). The male model mostly sat there being his silent and intense self, but the female model was open to a bit of small talk with me and the hairdresser, mostly about how damaging repeated stylings are to her hair, where she was from…things like that. Since I’d always wondered what the hardest part of modeling was, I thought this was an excellent opportunity to find out firsthand. I was expecting an answer that had to do with competition, or body image, or stress and lack of sleep over those things, but she said it was just the traveling. Namely, the simple fact of missing family and friends while flying around the world. It was an unexpectedly human answer, and I was momentarily stupidly stunned.

And she showed me her fabulous teddy bear iPhone cover. Why don’t they make things that cute for other phones?

– – – – –

I’ve finally learned where to stand if I’m waiting outside for something (shuttles, other people, etc.) near a smoker. I just feel for the direction the wind is going. Say it’s blowing east. Then I step to the west side of the smoker and enjoy the (relatively) fresh(er) air. Sounds like common sense, but it’s not something I’d ever had to think about while growing up in spacious, sparsely-populated suburbia where people only smoke on their own doorsteps.

– – – – –

Considering that I live very, very close to East Village, it took me a stupidly long time to actually visit.

Tah dah — the evidence.

– – – – –

I am so damn upset I missed Manhattanhenge. So upset. You have no idea. Livid.

– – – – –

Seen and overheard while out and about (and at work): on the subway F train, a child with a frightening laugh, a textbook frightening laugh–just the sort that you’d hear from little ghostie kids in frilly white clothes in horror movies. At work, a fellow intern complaining that his managers have nicknamed him “Princess.” A completely topless (I thought that was illegal?!) woman walking down Washington Square West…one of the friends I was walking with completely lost it and was so confused.

– – – – –

In other news:

One of my school friends sent me a letter! It’s beautiful and handwritten and he sent a 20 pence piece along with it (he was just in England on vacation). I admittedly squealed a little when I pulled it out of my mailbox in the lobby of my building, and the security guard made fun of me a little before asking what the hell was going on.

I showed him the back of the envelope and excitedly squeaked out that my friend had used actual wax to seal the letter inside. An actual. Wax. Seal. I kid you not.

“Who even does that?” I rhetorically asked the guard, albeit in a thoroughly impressed manner.

The guard: “Oh, he do. He do.”

My friend is a flawless human being.

– – – – –


Tried Downtown Bakery (I typed Downton at first and suddenly remembered how much I miss that show, alsjfsdfkl) on 1st Ave near East 4th St. in East Village. It sounds like a cake and cookies place, but it actually occupies some kind of Tex-Mex niche. (I say “some kind of”…something about it seemed slightly off.) Prices and portions are moderate, but the chicken nachos I had reminded me strongly and unpleasantly of food I once got at some sort of speakers’ convention when I was eight years old and bored as all hell in an auditorium full of ~supah serious~, stone-faced adults.

– – – – –

Currently on heavy rotation: “Science of Fear” by The Temper Trap. There’s something very action-y and high energy about this track. Reminds me of a lot of movie trailers. And “Movement” by Dam Mantle, because apparently I am slightly hipster?


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