I’m freezing. I mean I am really freezing. For some reason the heater in our showroom wasn’t working today and so now here I am in my house, 5 hours later, freezing. I have worked for the past 15 days straight. It’s fashion month here in Milan…
I know, who cares – right? Well, that’s what I used to think, before I started working in fashion. (luxury fashion, that is) You see, I have a great job doing marketing and sales for a very cool new brand of women’s shoes. I had them on the other night at a very exclusive party here in Milan, the sort of party where they take your picture when you walk in ..just in case.
A party where I barely got past the photographers when I tripped and stumbled over a floor lamp. Fashion can do that sort of thing to you. One minute your just happily living your life and then the next thing you know you are going to these really big parties tripping over lamps while waiting your turn to talk to the one person that at soon as you let your guard down – leaves the party..
My life is not all about work. Fortunately I also have a family to think of, blog readers to recover, not to mention the freaking frutta vendola (fruit stand guy) to joke around with..I am not your typical hard-core manager, and I am certainly not one to let the Vice President of any major department store get my feathers ruffled..
This is what I was thinking today when his (and by his I mean Mr.V.P.’s) office called to ask if it was possible to see the collection.. in 20 minutes.
I was picking up my daughter from school.(after 2 weeks of not being able to do so) She had barely buckled her seatbelt and I was already racing down the narrow streets of Milan, to get back to the showroom wondering if anyone will notice that I have brought my 7-year-old daughter. Then the VP’s office call again. No rush, he can make it in an hour. I drop off daughter at home with nanny and once again risk innocent lives to get back to the showroom, where upon arrival I see the heater is on but it’s freezing. I wait and wait, after an hour I get another email. VP can’t make it. I’m not falling for it, as soon as I walk out the door they will call me to say he’s there. I send an email saying I am there anyway if he wants to stop by. Another hour passes by. I go and stand next to the heater and think of my kids that are probably at home in front of the television. A wave of guilt cuts through my frozen body.
I blow out our expensive perfumed candle and head home wondering how on earth it’s possible to dedicate yourself to your work and your loved ones without ever falling from Grace..