Chloe by Design: Balancing Act

by Margaret Gurevich

  “I know we have several new interns starting today, so for those of you who don’t know me, I’m Stefan Meyers,” he says. Around the room, I see a few people sit up straighter. They don’t look much older than me, so I assume they’re interns too. Stefan continues, “Unfortunately, there’s no time to go around and introduce yourselves right now, but please feel free to say hello after the meeting.”

  I make a mental note to work up the guts to go talk to him later.

  “Very well, then,” he continues. “As I’m sure everyone knows, Fashion Week is less than two months away. That’s what we’ll be eating, breathing, and sleeping until then. The items we’ll be showcasing are completed or close to it. However, I did want to add two more design elements to the mix. It’s crunch time, so I hope you read my latest e-mail with all the information.”

  The panicked faces around the table tell me they haven’t read the e-mail. I write “e-mail?” in the margin of my notebook as Stefan begins a PowerPoint presentation outlining his ideas. He shows slides of skirts, dresses, and pants, all in varying lengths. I like that he doesn’t just have the typical spring pastels in his color scheme. Many of the hues he presents are deeper shades of these.

  I glance around the room and wonder what I’m supposed to be writing down. Will we be showcasing all of these pieces during Fashion Week?

  Stefan finally turns off the screen and looks expectantly at the group. “Thoughts?”

  Everyone shouts out ideas, pushing their drawings to the forefront. Only the interns are quiet. I quickly write the things I hear.

  “I say tank dresses are the way to go,” says someone on the other side of the room. “Maybe something with a gathered waist.”

  “I like that,” another designer adds, nodding in agreement. “What about a pleated skirt to help give it some movement as well?”

  “So, are we for sure nixing all pastels, then?” someone else calls out.

  “I’m envisioning a sleeveless top with an embellished collar,” a man chimes in.

  I can’t keep track of who’s talking, but I do my best to record the ideas, taking notes and making some quick sketches. I can add details later, but at least this way I’ll have some way to visualize what everyone is saying.

  Next to me, Laura is quiet. She’s fiddling with the designs in her portfolio, and I wonder why she doesn’t shout out like the rest of the designers. Doesn’t a head designer’s opinion matter most?

  By the time Stefan raises his hand for silence I have more than five pages of notes. “This has been very helpful,” he says. “Expect a more refined plan by the end of the week.”

  I grab my notebook and wait for Laura, but she motions for me to go on ahead. “I need to run some things by Stefan,” she says.

  “Sure,” I say. I head back to the closet of clothes, realizing then that I didn’t say one word to the man who designed them.

  It’s after six o’clock by the time I finally make it back to my FIT dorm room. I’m starving, but the thought of walking somewhere makes me want to collapse. My back is killing me after a full day of sorting clothes. Hopefully, tomorrow will involve some in-my-seat designing.

  As I get closer to my room, I hear voices and remember I’ll meet my suitemates today. I plaster a smile on my face and walk in. There are three girls sitting at the table in our suite’s common area.

  “Hey!” one of the girls says. Her reddish-brown hair is swept up with a sparkly comb. “Pizza?” She scoots over, revealing a pizza box.

  I take a seat beside her and two other girls and grab a slice. “Thanks! I so didn’t want to go back out.” I take a huge bite.

  “I don’t blame you,” the girl says with a laugh. “I’m Bailey.” She points to her left. “This is Avery. And next to her is Madison.”

  My mouth is full of food, so I wave. “Chloe,” I manage when I’m done chewing.

  “Which designer are you interning for? Have you done it before? What department are you in?” Avery hits me with a string of questions. “Sorry. I love hearing about what everyone is doing.”

  “Um, I’m with Stefan Meyers?” I say. “Doing clothing design. And I, uh, this is my first internship. I won it …” Geez, Chloe, can you sound any more insecure?

  Bailey’s eyes go wide. “Hold up. You’re the girl who won Teen Design Diva! I thought you looked familiar!”

  Avery jumps up. “OMG! That’s awesome! When Nina took your seam ripper I almost died. By the way, I loved your final design. The dress with the removable collar and peplum was so cute.”

  I blush but remember the moment proudly. “Thanks,” I say. This time my voice is more confident.

  “I’m psyched to intern in New York again,” says Bailey. “I’m majoring in fashion design at Florida U, but one of my professors has connections here.”

  “You guys have all done internships before?” I ask my roommates.

  Bailey nods. “Yeah, I was with Stefan Meyers my senior year of high school,” she says. “They had me in dresses with Taylor, knits with Laura, and PR with Michael.” She waves her hand. “I was all over the place.”

  All over the place? “You mean you don’t just stay with one department?” I ask.

  “Usually not,” says Bailey. “It can get overwhelming, but the more you know about the industry, the better. You wouldn’t want to have your own label and have no clue how it’s run, right?” She smiles.

  “Good point,” I say, but the thought of moving from one department to another makes me a little nervous. I’m not sure I want to learn about PR or something like that. I already know designing is my thing. “So who are you with now?”

  “Mallory Kane,” says Bailey. “The woman is brilliant, but she’s just as kooky as she seemed on television. She still gushes about the emerald-green dress you sewed when she was a guest judge.”

  “You’re famous, girl!” says Avery.

  “As if,” I say, laughing. It’s then I realize Madison has not spoken since I came in. I turn toward her. “How about you?”

  “This is my first internship,” she says. “I’m with Stefan Meyers too.”

  “Really? I’m surprised I didn’t see you at today’s meeting.”

  “Unless there’s an all-company meeting, we don’t usually see the other interns from other departments. I’m in dresses with Taylor,” she says.

  “Cool! Do you love it?”

  Madison shrugs and focuses her attention on her pizza. “I don’t know. Taylor’s kind of uptight.”

  “Taylor’s okay,” Bailey chimes in. “I worked with her when I was interning at Stefan Meyers. I think she just takes her job really seriously. Being the head designer for all of dresses is a lot of responsibility.”

  Madison shrugs again. “I guess. We had our meeting with Stefan today, and I didn’t get a chance to voice my ideas at all.”

  Avery laughs. “That’s because we’re interns! We’ll be lucky if the junior designers even know our names. Let alone the head of the whole label.”

  I think back to our meeting with Stefan — everyone was trying to show him their drawings. “Yeah, during our meeting, everyone wanted to be noticed,” I say. “I just took notes.”

  Bailey nods and laughs. “Yup. That’s how it is. I mean, you have the head designer, the junior designers, the design assistants … everyone wants to move up.”

  “Whatever,” Madison mumbles. “Not all of us can have our internships handed to us.”

  My skin gets hot. Is she talking about me? “No one handed me anything,” I say firmly. “I worked really hard to get here.”

  Bailey and Avery shift uncomfortably.

  “No offense,” says Madison with a little smirk. “I just meant some of the other designers were better. Like Nina LeFleur.”

  “C’mon, guys,” says Avery softly.

  I shake my head. “It’s fine,” I sa
y, then turn to Madison. “You’re right, the other designers were amazing. Lucky for me, though, you weren’t one of the judges.”

  On Tuesday, I wake up early again and head straight to the office. I don’t want to hang around my dorm longer than necessary. Madison clearly doesn’t like me, and I have no idea why. Maybe she tried out for Teen Design Diva and didn’t make the cut, or maybe she really did hate my designs. Who knows.

  I learned my lesson the other day and know it’s too early to call my mom thanks to the time difference. Instead, I have to settle for imagining a conversation with her. I’m sure she’d tell me that the world is full of different people, and my job is to be the best version of myself. That’s the kind of thing she always told me when Nina and I were going head-to-head.

  I’ll be honest … I love being here, but I really miss my mom. It was great having her here during the Teen Design Diva competition, but the show paid for our accommodations. My housing at FIT is covered during my internship, but my mom couldn’t afford to stay in NYC for the rest of the summer. We text or call each other every day, and I try to focus on the positive, but it’s hard without her here.

  I think about texting Alex and filling her in on Madison, but I know what she’d say too. I can hear her voice in my head: “Don’t let the haters get you down, Chloe.” Both she and my mom would be right, but logic and feelings don’t always go together.

  When I arrive at work at seven-thirty, the security guard sees my badge and waves me forward. I take the elevator straight up to the seventh floor and head to Laura’s office.

  Laura grins when she sees me. “I love that you’re here early. It shows me that you’re motivated.”

  “I am,” I say, sneaking a glance down the hall toward the fashion closet. My back still hurts. I hope there aren’t new piles.

  Laura follows my glance and laughs. “Don’t worry. The closet is done. Today, I need help assembling patterns for Stefan.”

  “I love designing,” I blurt out. I immediately feel silly. Duh, Chloe, I think. Everyone here loves designing. That’s why they work for a designer.

  Laura smiles. “That’s great,” she says, “but this is probably a little different from what you’re used to. As you heard at the meeting, Stefan is going to send out his detailed plan by the end of the week. When I talked with him after the meeting yesterday, he gave me some ideas about the direction he’s leaning. He’s asking several departments to create boards like the ones I showed you yesterday during our mini-tour. Remember them?”

  I nod. “Will I get to help with those?” I ask. It would be so cool to contribute to Fashion Week in some small way.

  “That’s what I’m counting on,” Laura says. “You’re going to work with me to create mini-designs to pin up. Then Stefan can review them and decide which ones best represent his vision. He’ll use what we created to further develop his designs, and we’ll hear more of his thoughts at next Wednesday’s meeting.”

  “But there are so many designers,” I reply. “He can’t like all our designs!”

  Laura laughs. “True. And sometimes he doesn’t like any of them. Trust me, I’ve seen it happen. Stefan is very talented, but it can take a lot of back-and-forth discussions to get a garment just right. Like, he may think yellow silk will look perfect paired with pink cotton … but after he sees it, he may decide the design needs to be changed.”

  My face falls. We could make a whole board of ideas, and it could all be for nothing. “That’s a lot of work for no reason.”

  “I felt like that when I started too,” Laura agrees, “but I get it now. Imagine if we didn’t do that. We’d order fabric, start working on a design, and wouldn’t realize until the end that something didn’t work. This way saves time in the long run.”

  I nod. Laura’s right. That does make more sense.

  “So we do samples,” Laura continues. “Stefan may be hesitant about a pattern’s selling potential, but when buyers express a lot of interest in something, it shows him he’s on the right track. Or, he may love a design, but when it tanks with buyers, that shows him he needs to change his plans.”

  I’m starting to realize that there’s still a lot I don’t know about this industry. Imagine putting your heart and soul into a design only to have others hate it.

  Laura looks at her phone. “We need to get moving. Pockets are one of Stefan’s focuses, so I’ll need you to create samples of them.”

  Pockets are simple to make, but there are so many variations. Still, I think I can handle that. “What kind?” I ask.

  “Stefan wants to expand his denim line,” Laura says as she rummages through the mess.

  “How about working with embellishments?” I suggest, already picturing the possibilities. “We can create borders of embroidered flowers or lace trim. Or pseudo-pockets with a satin border?” I think of the final Teen Design Diva challenge, when Derek created pants pockets that were only visible inside the garment. “Or hidden pockets so the outfit won’t look bulky?”

  “Here they are!” Laura finally exclaims. She pulls a stack of papers from the corner of her desk.

  Maybe when we’re done with the pockets, I can organize Laura’s desk, I think.

  “You and I are on the same page, Chloe,” Laura continues. “Come check out these sketches.”

  I lean over and look at Laura’s drawings. She has sketches of flowered pockets, embellished pockets, hidden pockets, contrast stitching, and more. I beam, feeling proud that my vision was so close to hers. I might have a lot to learn, but I’m on the right track.

  At the end of the day, I decide to stop by Liesel’s store. I thought I’d see her all the time since we’re both in New York, but I haven’t seen her since the Teen Design Diva finale. When I walk in, she’s helping a customer and doesn’t see me. I let her do her thing.

  “That’s perfection,” I hear her say as she pairs a soft-looking scarf with an elegant maxi dress. The customer grins. I love seeing how the right outfit can brighten someone’s day.

  As the customer leaves, Liesel notices me standing near the front entrance and rushes to meet me. “Chloe!” she says, giving me a big hug. “What a wonderful surprise!”

  “I hope it’s okay that I just popped in,” I say.

  “Of course!” Liesel exclaims. “Let me look at you!” She steps back, giving me the once-over as if she hasn’t seen me in years.

  “Liesel,” I say with a laugh, “it’s only been a few weeks.”

  “It feels longer,” she says. “You seem so mature. Must be the internship.” She winks at me.

  “It has been amazing,” I say. “I even got to see Stefan!”

  “Oh, that’s right,” says Liesel. “I heard you were at Stefan Meyers.” She moves over to the scarves and motions for me to follow. She begins folding the lightweight scarves, organizing them by color. “I helped them with their fall line last year, and we’re finalizing details for the spring line too. I’ll keep you posted. Who are you reporting to?”

  “Um, Laura Carmichael. She seems really nice. Right now, we’re working on pocket embellishments,” I say, folding a patterned scarf and adding it to Liesel’s growing pile.

  “Laura’s a sweetheart,” Liesel agrees. “Smart too. I’ve been in meetings with her. She always seems a little quiet, but I think she’s just taking it all in and waiting for the right time to voice her opinion.”

  I think back to yesterday’s meeting. Is that what Laura was doing? “We actually had a meeting yesterday,” I tell Liesel. “A lot of the other designers were yelling at Stefan and almost fighting each other to show off their designs. Laura just kind of sat there, which I was a little surprised by. I mean, she’s a head designer, too.”

  Liesel looks up from the scarves. “Do you think Stefan remembered everything the others shouted at him? Do you think he could even hear who said what?”

  I know I h
ad a hard time hearing what was going on. “Probably not?”

  Liesel nods. “Most definitely not. I’m sure he heard the gist, but specifics?” She shakes her head. “I bet Laura stayed after the meeting and talked to him. That’s what I would have done. It’s easier to get a sense of what a designer wants one-on-one.”

  “She did stay after!” I say.

  “See,” Liesel says. “I know Laura might not come off as the most organized, but when it comes to getting the product right, she gets all the information she needs to do a good job. She also knows it’s about creating something for the Stefan Meyers brand, not about Laura Carmichael getting the spotlight.”

  Liesel looks at me pointedly like I’m supposed to read between the lines of this conversation. I nod like I get it, even though I don’t.

  Just then, a herd of customers bursts through the doors, and Liesel smiles a welcome.

  “I’ll let you work,” I say.

  Liesel hugs me goodbye. “Let’s do lunch next Tuesday. Jake or I will text you about it. It was great seeing you!”

  As I leave Liesel’s store, I realize how thankful I am to have her. It softens the blow of not having my mom nearby.

  My stomach growls on the way back to the dorms, and I stop to buy a soft pretzel from a street vendor. I’m immediately reminded of Jake. During Teen Design Diva, when I was feeling really discouraged, Jake and I had a great talk about what I wanted. He made me see that giving up wasn’t the answer. Then, he bought me a soft pretzel and took a picture of me with mustard on my nose.

  Smiling at the memory, I put a dab of mustard on my finger and place a drop on my nose. Then I snap a photo with my phone and send it to Jake. “Missing our talks,” I write.

  A minute later, my phone buzzes with a text. A photo of Jake, burger in hand and ketchup on his nose, pops up on the screen. “Miss you too!” he writes. “Hang on Friday?”