What goes on behind closed doors during Fashion Week? It’s 8:30 am and the phones are buzzing, coffee is being sipped at every cubicle and fashionably dressed, beautiful young women are calling out celebrity guest list names to each other at a hot NYC PR firm. “Vogue needs front row seating, don’t put Neiman’s next to Barney’s, no - that freelance writer cannot get an interview with the designer!”

By Jessica Ciarla

It’s 8:30 am and the phones are buzzing, coffee is being sipped at every cubicle and fashionably dressed, beautiful young women are calling out celebrity guest list names to each other at a hot NYC PR firm.

“Vogue needs front row seating, don’t put Neiman’s next to Barney’s, no - that freelance writer cannot get an interview with the designer!”

I’ve had about 6 hours of sleep and was in the office until 10:30pm last night, still on my blackberry in bed till about midnight, sending follow up emails. Oh, the glamorous life of fashion. Yes, the idea is fabulous, the clothes are beautiful, the celebrities are “A” list, but this is hard work! My nails are in desperate need of a manicure, my hair hasn’t been washed in two days, and my skin is looking a little lack-luster from being held hostage in an office for the past 50 hours with no sleep. Still, the adrenaline is pumping and the addiction to the fashion high I get from the buzz around me is apparent. This is where I belong!

First up, backstage at a fabulous New York City designer’s show. The guest list is long and the people aggressively crowd the entrance all claming to have interviews booked. The fashionista Jekyll and Hyde, yikes!  What a monster.

Me:  “I’m sorry, you are not on the list. May I see your business card?”

Her:  “That is not possible! No, I do not have one.” she responds in an annoying, thick, French accent. 

Me:  “There is nothing I can do, I’m sorry.”

Her:  “Let me see the list!”

She abruptly grabs it from my hands.