Sunday, July 25, 2010

Why the Fuck are you Here?

So far, at this internship, we've had pretty good clients. They range from pleasant to seriously funny. Today we got an über bitch. The type of bitch you read about in books like The Devil Wears Prada, she was just so pissy. She came later than her colleague, for whatever reason, and I ended up having to greet her at the door. With a smile Julie Andrews would be proud of I greeted her and with a sour-ass face she greeted me, no that's wrong, she didn't greet me, she registered my presence. She was a heavy set woman, which was probably why she insisted on wearing a boring, black, wrap-around dress that skimmed over her. I wouldn't have pegged her for a buyer at first glance. They normally have a sense of style even when it is simple, she could have been on Fleet Street with the way she was dressed. She had blonde hair; not the nice kind, no, it was dull, unnatural... like she'd been dyeing it for some years.  I knew this wasn't gonna go well.

I took her upstairs - oh, I forgot to mention that she was so late that her colleague had already picked out the collection she thought would work best for them. She walked in like a tornado and said 'No. No. Don't like it. Can't sell it.' All with a sour-ass face. She didn't like anything that made the collection unique. She wanted safe and easy. I despise safe and easy. When she left as sourly as she came in, her colleague quietly apologised to my boss for her boss. But this is the fashion industry, there are pricks and sour bitches everywhere you turn.

No comments:

Post a Comment