On Thursday I went with Abby and the other intern, Jessica to Condé Nast. You know, the building that 'The Devil Wears Prada" is based off of? We went there for breakfast, and I almost felt like it was awkward that they had such a nice cafeteria and that people actually eat in there, considering a hefty amount starve themselves (no pun intended). We met with Ashley, the Fashion Manager of Advertising of Teen Vogue. Our breakfast talk somehow went from being about her profession to talk about child birth. Weird, but humorous. During our tour, we saw the Teen Vogue Editor, Amy Astley's office. It looked like heaven with perfectly white carpet and a grown up tea party looking set up. Not to mention, it was ridiculously large. After the tour, Abby, Jessica, and I sat down and flipped through this month's issue of Teen Vogue and went over how advertisements are set up. It's great to read an amazing magazine, but even greater to know what goes into the making of it.
When we got back to the office, I worked on the Op closet and set up clothes that are being sent to a Wal-Mart Celebrity Golf Tournament for charity in Pebble Beach. As I was organizing the clothes, Tara told me that Yehuda wanted me to come down to the fourth floor. The first thing that came to mind was that I was in trouble for finding enormous humor in the fact that Abby told Ed Hardy that Yehuda was covered in tattoos. To my surprise, I went down to the conference room and there was Yehuda, joined by Ed Hardy, telling me to pick which poster I wanted him to sign. --Very cool, very nice.
For lunch, Jessica and another worker, Cory and I got lunch at the café downstairs. I figured it would be nice to get the three of us together considering we are the youngest and the newest at Iconix. Cory treated us to fro-yo and it is safe to say that I broke my Tasti D Lite virginity with a snickers flavor covered in Heath Bar.
The rest of the day was spent doing bitch work for people in need. Filing archives, sticking brand names and labels on file cabinets. I can't complain because I technically am their bitch!
However, fashionaunta got us a town car home today. No old woman fart, score.