I know, I know, I know...It is coming up to two months without a post. There really isn't an excuse except for that I have been as busy as any other working person and with regard to the weight loss front there really hasn't been a huge amount to report. But now I am back and both will be reconciled.
My internship at the Sunday Times is done and I learnt a lot. However unsurprisingly some of my premonitions about the fashion industry were distinctly accurate. They are all thin, they are all blonde, they are all beautiful, they all are ridiculously stylish and they all eat an avocado for lunch. For the overweight less than beautiful Indian, that will happily eat avocado if it is part of fajitas this was always going to be a tough industry to crack. I was anxious to say the least on my first day, I hadn't had an interview for the position (in essence so they hadn't seen how I didn't fit AT ALL) and so anxious doesn't really come close...I was petrified. My first day in truth was an utter shambles - I had woken up about 20 hours too early after panicing about what the hell to wear and it went down hill from there. First day of fashion mag school looked a lot like this...(see the false trembling smile?!..I know what a sad git.)
When I got to the hugely intimidating building it turned out that all of the fashion editors were out that day (as time went on I found that Mondays were the quietest of days at the office as a lot of people weren't fond of coming in) and so I was kindly looked after by the features intern Tash - who was an absolute gem. So there I was in my nice new outfit sitting on fashion monitor freezing my absolute tits off because during a snow storm News International see that it is fitting to have cold air blow on its employees. My day was cheered up by a trip to Pret (which very quickly lost its novelty) and whilst everyone else was scooping out the rest of their avocados in the office I was eagerly anticipating a falafel wrap. It was all going swimmingly I had my Lemon Aid in hand (you know you have them too much when you spell lemonade the way Pret does), until I looked down and realised I had splattered falafel wrap sauce all down my new pristine white shirt. I was reminded of the scene in Hitch when the poor lovable fat guy drops an entire sub down himself and subsequent gets himself in an absolute pickle. As much as I know you would find this scenario hideously enjoyable, in truth I just ran to the toilet and attempted to wash my shirt. Still not exactly ideal on your first day.
As the week went on (and gratefully things got a lot better) I think I took people by surprise, I almost took myself by surprise with how much I already knew about fashion and people started to look at me in a different way. The look that I often get when people find out I used to be good at sports - a look of shock and amaze with a hint of 'she has got to be shitting me' thrown in. Suddenly my opinion was valued and I was really part of the team, as much as I still was the girl that most certainly did not fit in, I was the girl that to some degree knew what she was talking about - and I happily took that.
By the end of my stint at Style my fashion life was in full flow, I was still the least stylish person in there. There was no competing with the fashion editors they wore their clothes with a confidence that can only come from being in that industry long enough to know you have made it. There was not even competition with the other interns they were all a size 6 and stunning and the looked like they belonged. But on the rare occasion I was caught in a very similar outfit to another intern or even better one of the actual Style team I gave myself a little pat on the back for doing it for the fatties. By the end of it, I got to my surprise a glowing report from the junior editors, who even more to my surprise, were actually impressed by me and of course I managed to utilise my one talent in life and made some friends (being the most approachable and least intimidating person in the office has its positives).
So what to do now that it is over? Well, I was feeling brave when I was there and thought I have this opportunity I have to really take it - so I wrote a short piece and sent it to the editors. That was about 20 minutes ago and whilst writing this I have an email sitting in my inbox from one of the editors, I feel like a school kid awaiting judgement from their favourite teacher and suddenly all my bravery and confidence is lost.
I have learnt from this experience that to be in the fashion industry you need a thick skin and one hell of a wardrobe - at present I am working on both. I realise this is a rather serious post back into my blogging life but never fear my pretties wait til you hear about the disaster that was my birthday you will be back to lolling at my disasters - because everyone aims to faceplant infront of a whole club on their birthday.
I have missed you,
Fatty BB xxx