intern posts

On The Move: London for LCM.

January 4, 2014

londondon

Just thought I’d post a little update on what’s going down with me at the moment – managed to tear myself away from the schedule my adorable new Filofax keeps screaming at me. A week or so ago, I saw a post from Camilla Hunt of WJ London looking for LCM and LFW (London Collections: Men/London Fashion Week, for any non-fashion folk) contributors to cover the fashion shows – so I dropped her over my CV and some blog links, with a touch of subconscious begging and pleading. A couple of days ago, to my surprise, Camilla contacted me again to inform me that I’d been selected as one of the contributors – I’ll try and refrain from doing a smug hair flick.

So, my current state is revolving around fervent fearful outfit-planning and nervous carrot stick nibbling. Neither of which are going particularly well – I’m just staring at my suitcase with dismay. Last time I went to London for a fashion event, I dressed like an utter pillock, so one can only hope the gods of fashion shine down on the creative side of my brain tonight.

I will be posting links to my features but, if you want to keep on the ball with what myself and the team are getting up to – bookmark WJ’s fashion page. 

There’s a whole host of other shiz going on with me right now too – I’m rushed off my pathetically small feet. I’ve got to finish copy for a website for Monday, write a blog post for my new Social Media intern post at Neon Rose, start a huge new copywriting project, write a Literature essay for the 13th and oh, clean my new nipple piercing. There ain’t no rest for the wicked…

How To Survive Summer.

June 25, 2013

College/university’s out, the sun’s making an attempt at showing its face – albeit a piss poor one, and the prospect of having sweet sod all to do for months seems damn appealing. This is, until you realise that you’re no longer fourteen, your lease ends in two weeks and you’re flirting with becoming the two dread words: “homeless” and “bum”. Then Summer becomes a snarky little bitch of dread – gone are the days of wasting your mid-teens holidays getting messed up on the local park with a tactfully scavved bottle of Lambrini. Instead, my summer has thus far consisted of: countless hours spent crying in bed staring at yet another data-entry-at-minimum-wage job that I still bizarrely won’t get; trawling miles (oh, just approximately ten) through business parks in ridiculous creeper boots just because I’m going for a fashion-related interview; receiving all too many ‘sorry, can’t today – got work’ texts from my friend circle; spending almost a week in bed because – for some reason – factor 50 still isn’t enough for my glacier-white skin and I started flaking off like something off a horror film. At the moment, I’m seething in a little pit of financial and motivational despair, throwing out emails like sporadic paper aeroplanes, in the seemingly vain hope that someone will notice my potential. At present, the only person to do such was some woman from a stripper club – where I had applied for bar work in a desperate attempt at income – who, upon seeing my CV picture (FYI: don’t put a picture from a party where you’re a mass of cheekbone and red lipstick on your CV), claimed there were no bar jobs left and wanted me to come in for an “exotic dancer” interview. And such is the colour of my summer, as it stands.

The only upside to this entire sorry affair is that, after the sunburn fiasco, I have emerged facially reinvigorated from my bed of tears and dairy free mint chocolate – and 99% spot free after a short, but franticly needy relationship with a tube of aqueous cream. Perhaps Simple or Garnier will pick me up off the street for their next ad, or I’ll enter BINTM and be the founding face behind their “Joke Applications” section. I’m narked off. It’s one of those weeks: I’m looking at my blog through sceptical eyes, sneering at the poxy pageviews since I started being a perpetual sulk – I even got to the disgraceful stage of lying in bed this morning, scanning the Twitter profiles of successful bloggers/writers that I know, eyeing up tweets about their latest achievements, and having to stop scrolling as I eventually couldn’t read through the pesky tears that’d emerged. I’ll be grand in a couple of days, something will pick up and I’ll have a new lease of life – a new project to get my sorry ass set on. But I thought I’d write this post for those of you who have been, or are still in this position too. I get a little pissed off with how blindly positive the beauty/fashion blogging world can be – given we spend about 75% of our posting time yannering on about how ‘AMAZE’ the latest BB/CC/DD/ZZ cream or ZARA piece is – yeah sure, we want our posts to be as beautiful as the things we’re writing about, but sometimes it’s good to just get out the virtual face-wipes and just see a blogger behind all the ‘lol – #lookatallmyfollowers’.

So this is for us, sulky bloggers – for anyone who’s felt a bit shite recently and needs a little pick-me-up. I’m writing this for all of us, myself included, as this is going to be a little brainstorm of things that we can get working on to stop ourselves from being stuck in that aforementioned pit of despair:

  • On the Job Hunt: Explore all avenues. Apply for every little bastarding thing on Gumtree/Indeed/Reed/Job Centre – I don’t care if it takes two days (yes, it took me that long – and you wonder why unemployment is making me bitter) – you’re only going to get something if you get out there. Join a temp/recruitment agency: I’m signed onto one in Lancaster that helped me out a decent amount with admin jobs last summer, so I’ll be joining one in Manchester this time for when I move. Get eagle-eyed with Twitter – there are lots of internships/jobs that get mentioned everyday, my favourite is @UKfashionintern. Finally, get old fashioned and trawl your local shopping centre/food district: I’m going to be marching around Manchester, especially the Arndale, laden with CVs. 
  • On Beating the ‘Average’ Fear: This is one of my biggest issues. Sometimes I get myself in a state of – ‘well, they’re doing so much better than me, look how average I am right now: what’s the bastarding point’? Arguably juvenile, I think it happens to us all sometimes and it’s just something to work through. My worst habit in these situations, is lying in bed all day – mining through the work and accolades of others, often in a cruel bout of masochism, but occasionally in a bid to seek inspiration and motivation. Just don’t sleep all day – that shit is bad. Nobody wants to hire the person who goes to sleep at 5am and wakes up at 3pm. 
  • On Post-Summer: For the two preceding summers I’ve had that have led up to a university year so far, I’ve had a slacker tendency to just not bother doing any reading and then tackle the beast head on when it comes to the beginning of term. This year, my final year, is going to be different – it’s time I grew up, had a good sniff of the coffee and got down to some serious business with Hemingway… 

 

Internship at ELLE Magazine.

May 28, 2013

Today I applied for the 2013 Edited by the Interns competition on ELLEUK.com, which led me to recall that I’d never actually gotten around to doing a write-up about the week internship that I did there last October. My trip to London/Cambridge was so jam-packed crazy that I don’t even remember the couple of weeks after I returned home – I think I just did a lot of lamenting and hibernating. I managed to snag a placement from ELLE’s Market Editor Bonnie Rakhit after meeting her at a River Island x ELLE event in Manchester last summer, which you can read more about here. After a week or so of feverish email inbox refreshing, I finally got offered a week’s placement at ELLE and started planning (mentally spending) for my London visit.

London is phenomenal. I know it’s terribly, terribly cliché but I’m such a ridiculous city girl and thinking back to trips I’ve done to New York and London literally make me well up. I’m barely joking when I say that I’d chop off a limb, or lick a kitten heel to teleport back to either of them. Big cities bring out some weirdly confident Ebony, who seems to shrivel up in the dreary humdrum of Lancaster city, so I cannot wait until I escape next year and can move to the capital. Anyway, I digress. I’m fortunate enough to have a lovely aunt and uncle living near Camden who let me stay with them for the week, which was an absolute lifesaver because, dang – that city is expensive. If you find an internship but are struggling to find cheap accommodation, you should look into houseshares or hosts, with schemes like Room For Tea. 

Step 1: Buy an Oyster Card. If you’re in the same London-novice boat that I was, you’ll be sounding the ‘Oy-what?’ card somewhere about now. The Oyster card system allows you to top up a card, akin to a phone top-up, which lets you roam the city through the underground/buses/other public transport – lifesaver. Not always the best of systems when you’re running for the bus and it’s at the bottom of a bag even Mary Poppins would think you’re a twat for carrying, though. Also not helpful when you’re late out of work, trying to get your clothes packed to catch the last train back to Cambridge – and stuck in a Friday rush-hour queue to top it up, in Oxford Street station. Even that didn’t dampen my chipper Northern-bastard-in-London spirit.

Step 2: Be proficient with a map (by which, I mean a very small, inconspicuous map) or don’t bother going without a smartphone with maps. Bizarrely, I found my way to the office without a hitch on the first day, but found myself completely lost on the third morning – running around like a prat with the biggest, most tourist-y map you’ve ever seen. Unfortunately, I’d just had my iPhone stolen a couple of weeks before my trip, so I was relying on my trusty old Nokia E71, which was pants. Oh, and you might want to get friendly with the tube system too – you will probably go out and get drunk, and you will undoubtedly nearly end up in the wrong place.

Step 3: If you have a Northern accent, you have special preparatory homework before you should go to a fashion internship. I worked with quick-talking European ladies from whom ‘Dries Van Noten’ rolled off the tongue to an almost sexy degree, whereas, my confused equivalent was a more ‘Uh, ‘DREES VAN NOHHHTEN’? And I don’t even have a particularly Northern accent. You need to be damn quick with a pen and the sticky notes too – shiz moves fast in these places, with no room for mistake.

Step 4: You might have to get up close and personal with some celebrities. No, I didn’t get my staple on with One Direction or braid Taylor Swift’s hair – but, I did return underwear that Victoria Beckham had worn on a shoot for the March issue. Geddin’, if that’s what you’re into. You’re going to be doing a lot of this returning too: I literally spent the entire week, bar about an hour (accumulative running up and down to the post-room time) doing returns from shoots. If you’re a fashion-lover though – in the clutches of endless Jimmy Choos and hiding in the jewelled cavern of the fashion cupboard – you’ll stay in your element 9 – 5.

Step 5: Go to Leon. Your mouth will thank me. So will your stomach, come 4pm when you’re salivating with hunger into a Moschino clutch. Trust me, the Pret superfood salad just isn’t going to cut it.

Step 6: Open your mouth and don’t be afraid to dress how you want to. I’m going to contradict myself with this one: I wore a really outlandish but arguably awesome hipster/Japanese-y/secretary/plain-crazy ensemble one day, and got complimented on it by one of the actual writers – which I was absolutely elated about – but instead of being all ‘Oh yeah, thanks! It’s from *insert plethora of stores*’, I giggled like a schoolgirl, squeaked ‘Thanks!’ and dived back into my fashion cupboard of solitude and safety. On the other hand, I did redeem myself towards the end of the week, when one of the other interns was working on a website feature with Bonnie, and I jumped in with a suggestion for them and she loved it. I spent the rest of the evening calling up my mum/dad/best friend/cat squealing that I’d got one whole line on the site.

Nervous and over-secretaried to Hell on the first day.

Step 7: Name drop me, please? I want back there. Pronto.

Find me on Twitter @Ebzo

New Look/Grazia Denim Styling Event – Manchester Arndale.

September 12, 2012

Yesterday I braved the rain and hopped a few trains to Manchester to check out the New Look/Grazia Denim Styling event in the Arndale – with the hope of having a couple of minutes to speak to the Grazia Fashion Editor Sophie Ferguson Jones – which I did! There was a little talk from Sophie, where she gave some hints and tips regarding the new trends for Autumn/Winter 2012 and what we should be wearing these next coming months.

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Ebony. 25. Manchester.
Marketing Manager who likes to mouth off on here about stuff she cares about. Expect mental health, Borderline Personality Disorder, and reviews - from restaurants, to books, to fashion. Talks to cats more than people, but seemingly has a lot to say.
ebonylaurenn@gmail.com