“That’s incredible!” says Avery. “I bet you’ll be helping with more than pockets soon enough.” She takes my share of pizza money from the middle of the floor and gives it back to me. “Our treat as a congratulations.”
I look at Madison and see her scowling at the floor. I feel bad for her even though she hasn’t been nice to me. We all want to be noticed. “Maybe when you work with another designer, you’ll have a better experience,” I say softly.
“Whatever,” she snaps. “I need air.”
Madison leaves the room, and Bailey shakes her head. “Forget her. Let’s celebrate. To Chloe!” she says, raising her pizza slice in the air.
“To Chloe!” echoes Avery.
The next morning, I’m still feeling giddy from my pocket triumph the day before. I get to Starbucks extra early, park myself on the leather couch, and take out my sketchpad. This time I focus on a woman at the front of the store. She’s leaning against a chair and checking out something on her phone.
I sketch a loose, pale pink A-line dress and chic bob. She’s the epitome of a confident, successful New York businesswoman.
I start sketching, taking care to make sure her confidence comes through in my drawing. I love how she’s accented her outfit with a leopard-print bag and a multilayered gold statement necklace.
The woman looks up from her phone and catches me looking at her. I start putting away my sketchpad, worried she’s going to get annoyed about me drawing her. But she just smiles.
***
“There you are, Chloe!” Laura exclaims as I walk into her office later that morning. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
I glance at my watch, worried I might have lost track of time. “Was I supposed to be here earlier this morning?” I ask.
Laura shakes her head. “No, sorry. I’m just excited. I have some good news for you!”
I scan her desk to see if there’s a list waiting, but all I see are Laura’s sketches. “What is it?” I ask.
“You get a break this morning,” Laura tells me. “Take advantage of it, because it happens hardly ever.”
That is good news. Sketching at Starbucks this morning was so great. It would be awesome to do some more people watching. But … “Why?” I ask her.
Laura cocks her head at me and grins. “This is why I like you. Someone else might have just been happy with the time off. I can tell you always have designing on the brain. You remind me of me.”
“What a great compliment!” I say.
“I’m glad you think so.” Laura takes a sip of her latte. “About the break. Stefan is really excited about the designs he saw at yesterday’s meeting, especially ours —”
“That was so nice of you to give me credit like that!” I interrupt.
“Stefan thought so too,” Laura replies, grinning at me. “He was impressed at how well we work together. In fact, it tipped the scales in my favor for a big Fashion Week design he was considering!”
“That’s amazing! What is it?” I ask.
“Stefan is still working out the details and will be here this afternoon to discuss, but it’s a multi-department project. He wants to do a last-minute addition to Fashion Week that will involve an art deco line and is counting on my department to collaborate with Taylor’s,” Laura explains excitedly.
I love art deco! It’s so glamorous. I can already imagine silk dresses covered with intricate beading. This must be what Liesel has been working on too. She has a great eye for these types of designs. I’m so excited about the new project — until I remember what Bailey said last night about switching departments.
“That’s so exciting,” I say. “But … will I get to help? I heard I might have to start working with someone else next week.”
Laura sighs. “That’s the hard part. Honestly, I’ve been avoiding that discussion because I was hoping Stefan would let me keep you.”
My face falls. Just when things sound exciting, I’ll have to move.
“Chin up,” Laura says with a grin. “I convinced him to let me share you so you can be fully involved in the art deco design.”
I’m not sure what this means, but I’m glad I’ll still be working with Laura.
“Madison will be moved to sales, and you’ll work with me and Taylor,” Laura explains. “It will take some adjusting, but I have faith in you. I think you’ll be able to handle it.”
Laura looks at me expectantly, and my heart flutters with nerves and excitement. This will be a big Fashion Week focus. I was plenty busy with Laura — will adding Taylor be too much?
I take a deep breath. I’m nervous, but if Laura has faith in me, I should too. “I can do it,” I say with a big smile. “Thanks so much for the opportunity!”
“Excellent,” Laura says. “Take the morning off to relax. Get breakfast, work on your own stuff, whatever you want. I bet you haven’t had any time to do your own designs since you’ve been here.”
I nod. “I miss that.” I immediately feel guilty for saying so. After all, Laura just told me I’d get to be part of an amazing project.
Laura only smiles. “One day, Chloe Montgomery, you’ll have your own intern, and stores will be filled with the CM label.”
I head to the elevator, thinking about what Laura and Liesel have both told me recently. It takes patience and experience to succeed in the fashion world. Patience isn’t my strong suit, but I’m doing my best.
I find a bench outside and take a seat. Sketchpad in hand and ideas bouncing around in my head, I’m ready. I start to draw, mentally counting down the hours until Stefan’s arrival.
“Hey!” someone suddenly yells. I glance up to see a skater dude with spiky hair. He has his eyebrow pierced and is wearing baggy shorts. I watch him do his tricks and pencil in the chain belt holding his shorts up.
“Hey!” he yells again. I look around and don’t see anyone there. He does more tricks, and I draw the V-neck collar of his shirt.
Finally the boy stops skating, puts his board under his arm, and walks over. “Hey,” he says when he gets close. He’d been calling me all along.
“Um, hi,” I say.
“Were you just drawing me?” he asks.
I bite my lip. I know people are weird about that sort of thing. They get self-conscious and don’t like to be subjects in someone’s notebook. I really need to learn to be more discrete.
“Yeah,” I finally say. “I’m sorry. See, I’m a —”
“I know who you are,” he says. He puts his hands in his pockets and blushes. “I, um, saw the show.”
Now it’s my turn to blush. “Oh, wow!” I relax since it doesn’t seem like he’s mad.
“Yeah, so, uh, can I have that drawing?” the guy asks. “And will you sign it for me?”
My eyes bug out. “You want this?” I say. “But it’s just a pencil sketch.”
“Yeah, but it’s a Chloe Montgomery original,” he says, acting like that means something important.
I’m speechless but sign my name and give him the drawing.
He holds it carefully, making sure not to wrinkle it. “You have a rubber band?”
“Um, sure.” I dig one out of my purse and hand it to him.
He rolls up the drawing. “Thanks!” he says, still blushing. Then he skates away, drawing tucked safely into his backpack.
I stare after the skateboarder, hoping my mouth isn’t hanging open. That was surreal. I never would have imagined my design would mean so much to someone. Is it possible that one day, my name will mean something too?
Dear Diary,
I can’t believe two weeks of my Stefan Meyers internship have already passed! I still have six weeks to go, but if it’s anything like the past couple weeks, it’s going to fly by. There’s always something new to learn, especially since I’ll be changing departments soon. I can’t say I’m thrilled about it —
working with Laura in knits and denims has been amazing! But apparently it’s something Stefan does so interns can get experience in more than one area. And I don’t want to complain, so … tomorrow I start in dresses with Taylor.
But there is some good news! I’ll get to keep working with Laura! She needs help with a last-minute addition to the line Stefan is showing at Fashion Week — a small art deco collection. The tricky (and stressful!) part is going to be splitting my time between two departments — I’ll be with Taylor on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and with Laura on Thursday and Friday. I’ve heard rumors (mainly from Madison) that Taylor can be hardcore. I’m a little anxious about having to prove myself again.
Speaking of Madison … she’s still not my biggest fan. I don’t really know why. She’s had it out for me since we met.
She’s convinced I only got this internship because I was on Teen Design Diva. Yes, the internship was the grand prize, but I’m also a good designer. She acts like all my successes are a fluke. You’d think she’d be psyched about everyone changing departments so she doesn’t have to work for Taylor anymore, but you’d be wrong. As soon as she heard I was looking forward to working with Taylor, she stalked out of our suite. I guess she didn’t want me working in that department either.
Thankfully Bailey and Avery have both been really supportive, and staying in the dorms at FIT has been completely surreal. Living here now gives me a taste of what it could be like if I were a student. I wish my mom or Alex were here so I could vent about the Madison stuff. I talk or text with them every day, but I haven’t wanted to share any of the downsides of this internship. No need to worry anyone back home. I’ll figure the Madison stuff out on my own.
The truth is, it seems like Madison will only be happy if I fall flat on my face. But, newsflash: I’ve waited too long for this opportunity to let that happen.
Xoxo — Chloe
Monday morning, the skies rumble and lightning flashes as I try to keep my umbrella steady. The walk from my dorm at FIT to the subway is a short one, but the wind kicks up, and in seconds, my hair gets drenched. Great. Now I look like a cat that got sprayed with a hose. What a way to begin my first day in my new department. I take a seat on the train, which thankfully isn’t too crowded yet, and pull my raincoat tighter around me. At least my outfit is still dry!
I take out my sketchpad, which never fails to calm me, and glance around the subway car, hoping to see something inspiring. Unfortunately, thanks to the rain, everyone is wearing some sort of jacket. Their features are hidden by
hoods or wet hair that’s plastered to their faces. I focus on a woman wearing an oversized hooded rain cape in a bright, neon yellow. The fabric appears to be lightweight and water-resistant, making it the perfect garment for today’s warm but crummy weather. The cape could look shapeless, but the woman has paired it with tight pants and tall boots for a chic, wearable — and more importantly, dry — look.
The train lurches to a stop, and the woman grabs the pole beside her. I shade in the color on her raincoat and notice her free hand close around a brightly colored umbrella. The train stops again, and the woman makes her way out the doors. I pack up my sketchpad since my stop is next.
When I reach my stop, I’m calmer — and thankfully somewhat drier — than when I rushed on. I head up the stairs to get out of the gloomy underground, and notice the rain has stopped. Stefan Meyers, here I come.
***
According to the information I got from Stefan last week, I’m supposed to report to the fifth floor today. As the elevator takes me there, I check my hair and makeup in the mirrored panels. My hair is no longer dripping, but it’s definitely on the frizzy side. Nothing a few finger scrunches can’t fix.
Turning around, I check out my striped knit sweater dress and smooth out a few wrinkles with my hand. I always prefer my own designs, but there was no time to make anything new for this internship. This dress, which I bought from my favorite Santa Cruz store, Mimi’s Thrifty Threads, is as close to wearing my own stuff as I’ll get. I’ve paired it with some low-heeled ankle booties, which have miraculously kept my feet somewhat dry.
The elevators whoosh open, and I step out. No one is there to greet me, and I take a moment to check out my surroundings. Even though the workday just started, everyone is clearly busy. Designers are sketching, pinning ideas on inspiration boards, and checking fabric against mannequins. Others are huddled in the corner chatting and sipping coffee, but their eyes are glued to the clock on the wall.
Unlike my first day with Laura, no one stops to stare at me. After two weeks here, I’m old news, and I like it that way. I was getting tired of whispers about “Diva Girl.” That’s a name Madison started, meant to be an insult. Like people only cared about me because I was on television.
I walk through the aisles, and my face lights up. There are images for art deco inspiration everywhere. From mood boards, to sketches, to books — all showcasing different designs. I stop and look at the beading and fabrics displayed on a nearby mood board, imagining what the glitzy and glamorous styles will look like when they’re finished.
“It gives you chills, doesn’t it?” a woman’s voice says from beside me. I jump, and she chuckles. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Taylor.”
Taylor extends her hand, and I shake it. She has a firm grip, and I immediately understand why Madison was intimidated by her. Even though she’s smiling, her severe bun and perfect posture let me know she’s all business.
“Chloe,” I say.
Taylor nods. “I’ve heard great things about you from both Laura and Stefan. I hope you won’t disappoint me.”
I’m about to laugh but stifle the impulse when I realize she’s not kidding. “I promise I won’t. I’m a hard worker.”
“Then we’ll get along just fine,” Taylor says. “Follow me to your desk, and I’ll show you what you’ll be doing today.”
My desk, an exact replica of the one I had in knits, is located right in front of Taylor’s office. At least I won’t have to venture far if I need her help, I think.
I scan my new workspace. Sitting on top is an overstuffed binder, and on the floor next to it are several bins of fabric. Then I see what’s on my seat — a laptop!
“It’s here!” I exclaim.
Taylor looks confused for a moment, then notices the laptop. “Oh, right. They delivered it this morning. We still do the majority of our work by hand, but it’s nice to have it for note taking or perfecting designs.”
“So what am I doing today?” I ask eagerly.
“Today is about me getting to know how you think,” says Taylor. “When I work with interns, I like to see their thought process and what they know. It allows me to see just how much direction and guidance you need.”
I swallow. This sounds like a test.
“Let’s look at these bins,” Taylor continues. “Each one is sorted by material. The silks are here, the satins here, tulle in that one, and so forth. Now, let’s explore the binder.”
Taylor flips it open to the first page. On one half, I see swatches of material — scraps in all different colors and textures. On the other half is a sketch of an outfit with the swatches representing the clothing. The first page has a sketch of a ball gown. The top half is covered with black silk swatches, while the bottom is covered with sheer organza.
“It looks like an inspiration board,” I say. “You get a rough image of the outfit before you make the prototype, like a mini-version of a design.”
“Exactly,” Taylor says, nodding. “I like inspiration boards, but I also like binders. They help me stay organized. I’d like you to go through the binder, and make a note of your favorite designs. Explain why you do or don’t like something. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings. Many of these were just brainstorms and never used. Others were from seasons past.”
Taylor flips to the back of the binder
. “I haven’t gotten around to matching these sketches with fabric yet. When you get to this section, I’d like you to try your hand at that. Just like you saw on the other pages. Make sense?”
I nod. “So for those sketches in the back, you want me to go through the bins and choose the fabrics I think would look best on them?”
“You got it,” says Taylor.
“But what if it’s totally different from what you had in mind?” I ask nervously.
“That’s fine,” says Taylor. “Like I said, I just want to see how you think. It might seem silly, but it helps me going forward. When you match the fabrics, please do it in your sketchpad, not in the binder. I want to save that for the finished product. I really don’t like leaving anything to chance.”
Taylor goes back into her office and closes the door. I start poring through the designs, immersing myself in all the details. I know there’s no right or wrong, but I really hope we’re on the same page.
I spend the rest of the morning working, taking my time with each page. Since this is my first full day with Taylor — and my first impression — I want to make sure it’s a good one.
I flip a page, and a dress in blinding yellow catches my eye, and I make a note on my “dislike” list. I like the cut of the dress, and I love a pop of color, but this bright neon is not my thing. I’d rather see a solid, neutral dress, maybe in black or khaki, with a neon belt or subtle pattern as an accent. I make a note of that too.
Another page is a mid-length dress with a contrasting belt. I make a note about how the contrast in color brings the outfit to life. Some designs leave me lukewarm. They have all the things I like, such as pops of color and smooth fabric, but something does not work for me. A beige dress with white polka dots and a white belt looks chic, but I’m not totally in love with it. It’s a little preppier than my normal style.
Chloe by Design: Balancing Act Page 5