Sunday, February 13, 2011

Day Five.

Slowly but surely, everything is coming together. I cannot believe that within the time I've been in NY, I probably slept for a total of 6 hours. I'll sleep when I'm dead. Watch, as soon as I get to Atlanta I'll probably be completely antisocial and hibernate for a week. My body completely detests me right now. Too much smoking, too much drinking, too little eating, too little sleeping...etc. I've mutated into one of those fashion frenzy zombies. Even jacked up on taurine, my mind is fuzzy and my motor skills are slower.

But I can't complain...because I'll never get a chance like this again.

I think chance encounters are magical.  It's the forces of nature that bring people together...or apart I guess. My mom calls it "ooo-yun", or fate. I believe in the stars, I always have.

Whenever I think of the Greats... Elizabeth, Audrey, Natalie Wood, Vivien Leigh, Marilyn...I never really care to know about who they married or who they dated.  I always imagine the stories behind those bittersweet romances that led to heartaches.  Those relationships that could have been, but would never be in this lifetime.  Those "almost" moments.  Missed opportunities.  Unfortunate life timing.  Strange.

16 hour day and it finished with a practice walk through. Everything is so precise and exact. I've been thinking, fashion production is a sadistic job. All the stress and emotion that goes into producing a show is aging and basically sucks the life out of u...but. It is an adrenaline rush. I'm a junkie like that. Har har.

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This is what just took place.

I love that i can update u guys in realtime!  I'm sorry my days are all sort of jumbled.  My call times are either 4am or 6am and i go home at around 11pm.  I'm totally ground-lagged and hopped on uppers to keep me going.  By the way, at around 10:47 am this morning, i made eye contact w/ Anna Wintour.  she was two feet away from me and i could smell her perfume and see her aura.

12:44pm.  i'm getting into a cab at this very moment.  It's all over.  The culmination of 18 hr days for 6 straight days and the final product - a beautiful show.  After it was all done, VB asked me, "can i trouble you for a napkin or tissue?"  I replied, "Sure!" and proceeded to run in my heels all the way to the kitchen to get her a cocktail napkin as fast as possible.  When i handed it to her, she proceeded to spit out her gum.



And then she turned to me and said,



"Here, you can have that."



No, not the used napkin w/ her gum.  She handed me something else.  Inside a knitted crochet bag... a long draped gold chain necklace accented w/ white and gray stones.  Very vintage.  Very elegant.  I'm still slightly confused cos her line doesn't carry any jewelry.  Did she hand me something that someone else gave her that she didn't want?  Where did it come from?  Is it her own?  Who knows.  In a room full of press--editors, bloggers, writers, photographers, celebrities--i didn't have the nerve to even exclaim, "ooh! what's this!"  but rather smiled an understood thank you and quickly shoved it in my pocket.  But i thought it was so nice coming from someone who doesn't have to be nice; from someone surprisingly very down-to-earth.

Ps.  I forgot to mention, On Day 2, i picked up one of her hair extensions that fell on the floor!  Hilarious!      

Day Four.

Aaaaaaand the paps arrive...like pigeons scurring around a single breadcrumb.

I'm getting really sick and tired of wearing all black. It's partially because all of my beautiful black clothes are still in storage in la. But mostly because wearing all black is so. damn. boring...and oh so sad. Thank God my hair has a reddish shade. *whew* maybe I should go back to blonde? Naaaah. I like being a redhead.

So...I got chewed out today. It's the first time I got yelled at since I started working. Reason? I botched a Starbucks order. I felt so unbelievably retarded and dumb and wanted to burst into tears and run all the way home and cry cos I was just being careless and I should have caught my mistake. Anyway, I don't show weakness. Nope. I won't let her get the best of me. It's hilarious how sometimes bosses expect u to pull shit out of your ass...and that shit better be shaped like the chrysler building and wrapped in a large red bow covered in ruby red sworafski crystals. How devil wears prada-ish.

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Day Three.

All natural organic plain toasted almonds. All day long people all around me gobble them up like birds. And today, I became one of those birds. To survive, I ate the only thing I could find...almonds. They're so bland I feel like I'm eating bark off a tree like that hippie wild life man that refuses to wear shoes and eats greens and bugs.  But when the day gets hectic, there's no time to eat and u can't be picky.

I think I walked about 15 miles today.  I'm not directionally challenged but I always forget which direction is North. So what usually happens is that I end up walking about 3 avenues the wrong way, and then I have to back track...which sucks monkey balls.

There are 2 body guards today:  one blonde-hair-blue-eyed and one brown hair brown eyed. It's the durndest thing...blonde-hair-blue-eyed people kinda scare me. I have this mental picture from children of the corn and it is just plain CREEPS! The brown haired one is sooo nice though....every time I walk by, he starting singing Georgia on my mind. *blush* Don't get me wrong, they're both beautiful specimens! I mean, u kinda have to be to work as a body guard in this industry. Hotter? More biznaz. No? As sad as it is...inner beauty doesn't matter nearly as much as outer...unless you're one of those weird androg models that looks sooo gross but are "model pretty".

Today, I spent literally ALL day in a mansion/brownstone...like the ones you see in movies. The place is being rented out to do presentations during fashion week. Basically, carpenters, interiors, stylists have all been working like crazy transforming this already beautiful piece of real estate into a place u can only dream about. I never knew how huge brownstones actually were.  It almost makes it feel like it's not Manhattan. My favorite is the spiral staircase. It  is unbelievably romantic. And I digs it. Basically, every room in the house is being transfigured into specified room: styling room, casting room, changing room, production room...etc. I had no idea how much went into throwing a show. It's intense. No one has been sleeping and everyone just works round the clock. Like mutant robots...like zombies.  D-day is Sunday. And how about my call time is 4am. So I'll have to be up around 2am I guess. I'm gonna be sleeping a lot when I get back to the A.  I'm going on 1 hour fifteen mins of sleep and my fauxlashes are getting EXTRA heavy.

Aaaaand although my hours are redonk, I still end up hitting the scene to see friends. And I always end up having a great time when kickin it with Dina, Franklin, James, Gene and Hannah. At Hiro, I saw this girl straight up bust out a pipe and smoke a shitton of weed. No on seemed to care, but that shit stunk up my clothes. I ABHOR the smell of weed. Anyway, 2 days left...let's make it good!!

Astrid

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Day Two.

Before i recap the day, i heard some sad news about my bff Nars' mom's dog who has to be put to sleep.  It totally knocked the wind out of me.  My sister texted me:  
Imagine how ums would cope if we lost Meems.  She would be totally inconsolable.  :(  i am so, so sad for her mom.
The thing is, we all know why God made dogs.  They are man's companion on earth.  Our souls connect and they speak to us constantly with their eyes and furry bodies, provide us comfort, and give us unconditional love.  If you're a dog owner, you know that somehow, in some strange and mysterious way, you and your dog have an understanding.  And when you share those special moments with your dog, you know without a doubt that your dog has a soul.  I have no doubt that when they die, they pass on to heaven.  It may sound silly and Disneyish, but do you doubt it?  No.  I have lots of loved pets who've died throughout my childhood and teen years and i know eventually Pips will die... she's 10 yrs old in March.  But it is comforting to know that i'll see her again someday.  

I imagine God has a dog up there. 


Love u Nars!


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The accent. The damn british accent. Anyone who knows me knows that I absolutely LOVE talking with a faux british accent. In my own mind, I've perfected it. I think I went an entire 3 days conversing w/ an accent. Wells at work, the designer/assistants speak with this accent. And when I hear it...I follow. I hopped into the elevator and one of the British walked closely behind.  When we were standing side by side, i turned and blurted, "Halloi"! He looked at me like this: O.o I grinned sheepishly and looked down.

I find shelter in cabs. Yellow mobile fortresses that shield me from the painfully brisk air, allowing me to take a breather from a day of running around the city.  At night, i have a moment to calm the spinning after a couple drinks.

I got scared to drink last night... my call times are so early and I couldn't imagine what my day would be like hungover.  So when I got to the apartment, i had a glass of pinot noir (my favorite wine) and passed out.

Today, I morphed into Nars. I drank sugar-free red bull all throughout the day. I basically consumed anything with caffeine in it. I ate steamed veggies for my sole meal.  Speaking of which...what I've realized is that in the fashion world, a normal meal throughout a hectic day consists of grapes, cereal, non-fat yogurt and steamed veggies. Period. I get it, image is everything... and i knew this is how it is... but man.  to be immersed in this alien existence... it's a headtrip.  it's been smashed into my head how important skinniness is in fashion. It's not superficiality... it's reality. 
 
I had to stock __'s fridge w/ grapes, grapes, grapes, fat free sliced deli chicken breast, cereal, yogurt, and that's it.  That's it!  You read the mags about so-and-so eating light dinners of steamed fish or grilled chicken breast and veggies and working out... NO.  lies.  it's anorexia at it's finest thriving in it's best environment - the fashion world.  and every day is a negative calorie day w/ the amount of working and scurrying about in 5" louboutins.



4am call time tomorrow.

Peace out, lovas.

Astrid.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Day One.

My new favorite word combo:  company card.

I stepped out at 6:45 this morning and the cold brisk air stabbed me like a million steak knives.  First, to find the nearest starbucks.  Luckily there was one 2 blocks from Jung Unnie's place.  After that, it's TAKE OFF.  Fast forward cab rides, steaming $10,000 dresses, the hottest gay assistants, signing nondisclosure agreements (i can't even blog about who i'm working for-or even tell my friends and family), 4 sugar free red bulls,  anorexic 6ft mutant flawless femmebot models, "Astrid, move the dresses away from the window, i'm afraid someone will long zoom them," a delish hot blue-eyed blonde-haired body guard, endless rows of Louboutins, and countless omg, I can't believe I'm here moments.

When the whirlwind finally subsided and the glitter of the day settled to my feet, I retreated to my phone to text my loved ones about the experience and tell them all the top secrets and inside scoops.  I floated back to Jung Unnie's place and I didn't mind the cold. I didn't mind the fact that I had to sneak away earlier to wobble to cvs to buy dr.scholls cushion pads cos I was on my feet all day, nonstop...rushing...rushing...full-out running.  But nothing could ruin this surreal day.

Whenever I'm traveling, I always carry the same exact things: white blackberry with pink case Nars gave me + charger, 2 packs of hubba bubba, 1 bag of peppermints, lipgloss, itouch, moleskin, green tea bag, apple cider packets, smokes, black ferregamo wallet uncle chass bought me 4 yrs ago for Christmas, shisedo compact and anick goutal petit cherie.

Today's jams on repeat consisted mainly of old school britney.  U know, when she had a python around her neck and was skinny and sexy.  Not hillbilly and chubby like she is now.  Even though britbrit is trying to make a comeback, she'll never be what she once was. This gets me to thinking...if I'm already 26, turning 27 this year, am I never gonna get back to those old glory days?

Also, most of the freaks of nature giraffe robot looking models that came in today were 16. I mean, COME ON!!! Sixteen-year-olds, wearing 10K dresses?!  I mean, COME THE FREAK ON!!  *whispers under breath* ...bitches.  When i was 16, i was in Tommy Hilfiger mens boxers under baggy jeans.  (i thought i was in TLC or Young Turks Club). 

ALSO!! I read in NY magazine the most interesting article about how mens' libidos are decreasing drastically due to the access of porn in today's society.  You can watch porn in your Samsung Vibrant at work on the pooper.  (or so i hear).  Men in their 30's have increasingly begun to see doctors cos they can't get it up like they used to. John Mayer told Playboy that there was a time where he saw 300 internet vaginas before getting out of bed at 9am. Gross. John Mayer's talent and personality are grossly mismatched.  Anyways, I couldn't put the magazine down.

Tomorrow's gonna be another dreamday. Catch u on the flip side.  I feel like i'm on a high and slowly, slowly coming down.  I feel really dorky, smiling to myself and staring out the window.  Here's the view from Jung Unnie's place overlooking the Hudson.  Romantic, isn't it? 



XX,
Astrid

Written last night @ the airport....posted via Blackberry

Here we go again, off to my favorite city in the world... well, maybe that's a tad exaggerated. After all, I have yet to go to Paris and become a bohemian, Marakesh to be a gypsy, Italy to be an ex-pat wino, Japan to be a harajuku girl, or Columbia to be a drug mule.  So to be technically precise, NYC is my favorite city in the US.

I'm sitting inside the smoker's lounge, sipping an espresso. Ahh. Hartsfield Jackson Atl Airport. U can never do any wrong. I don't even mind getting here early!

I don't know what to expect for my trip. I've never felt so lucky in my life to have this wonderful opportunity to work with a famous designer during one of the biggest fashion events in the world. *doing cartwheels*  I'm so happy and feel so undeserving.

I hope I don't catch hypothermia and turn into one of those statues on the Mt. Everest trail.  (My sister would not stop talking about it for 3 days straight).  I'd probably be petrified throwing up a peace sign, cigg in mouth, head tilted slightly down and to the left, and my other hand on my hip. I have GOT to pick up another pose.  Every picture is always so damn exact.  If I don't smile, I look scary and pissed.  If I open my mouth, i look slutsome.  If I close my eyes, it looks like I'm drunk and slutsome.  Girls who are "photographic" are usually just girls who know the angles / lighting / that best compliment them.  Like me, they pick it up and run with it.  And like me, they end up looking super repetitive.


Speaking of which, I have Morrisey on repeat.  His music is so feel good.  It almost feels 80's pop-ish with an early 90's mellow flare. He's an old fat man... probably balding too... but I seem to have a soft spot for bald fat men. *wink*

Sooo, atlanta hartsfield is "testing" new TSA security measures. Because of all the complaints with the human x -ray scanner being an invasion of privacy, they created a new one.  Instead of being able to see the actual body, they've created a generic picture of a man standing feet and arms apart. If the scanner picks up something suspicious, the suspected area of the body will turn red.  Well, they made me walk through one today. I wasn't nervous cos I didn't have any drugs on me... BUT... THEY MADE ME DO IT AGAIN.  I got so scared because I thought I might have accidentally left a baggie of illegal substances in my bra.  I nearly had a panic attack.  For some reason, my boob area kept turning up yellow!  TSA made me do it a third time.  I told her I have jellys in my bra and she goes, "oh, honey, that's probably what it is".  After I collected my things, I ran to the bathroom to check my bra.  And alas...a nearly empty baggie.  I can hear my sister screaming at me whilst I am writing this. :( I know I know unnie!!  Gahs!  AT LEAST IT WAS PRACTICALLY NOTHING, SHEESH.  FYI TO ALL THE VEGAS SMUGGLERS: DO NOT DO IT.

Call time is 730am. Gonna attempt to catch some zzz's, but I'll probably be too excited to sleep. But I must try nonetheless.

xoxo, Peas

Stay tuned for the ride of a lifetime.