What next?

The 'photographer' stage

As I mentioned in my first blog entry I am interested in the area of fashion journalism. Although I am uncertain of how much I will continue to want to do journalism, I know fashion is something I really want to pursue. I'm sure this just sounds like the typical teenage girl career choice like the rest, there was that stage where everyone wanted to be a lawyer, or a vet or a teacher/nurse/doctor, or at least my friends and I did but my interest in fashion goes deeper that just reading Total Girl when I was young. At about 13 I went through the fashion designer phase, I was certain that my best friend in the whole world and myself were going to make it big. Unfortunately our designs, if you could actually call them that, were more Supre than Sass and Bide, and like many young dreams, eventually fell apart. After a string of spontaneous career choices that various adults often shot down, or I realised were not going to be as glamorous as I’d hoped, I decided I was going to be a fashion photographer. It fit the criteria of glamorous, it looked exciting, beautiful, fun, and involved fashion, which I still loved to read and explore, only at this stage it was Vogue and Harpers Bazaar that the previously mentioned Total Girl.



Another from the 'photographer' stage

I studied photography at school, and while I loved it and did really well, I knew I would not make it. It might have been mum that ruined this dream, or maybe she just reinforced my own thoughts, but I just remember her telling me either I would have to work as one of those Kmart baby portrait photographers, or that is where I would end up. That single thought alone shattered my hopes of being the female version of Mario Testino.

Now I have resolved that even if I change my mind about doing fashion journalism I have to at least get a foot in the door. There is no point hoping and dreaming of fashion shows or having my own by-line unless I do whatever I can about getting into whatever position they will let me have to build up some kind of leg for myself to stand on. This is what has bought me to this point, the slightly stressed but eager and apprehensive feeling I know will only grow in the coming days. I didn’t actually think that I would be successful in gaining a volunteer position at this year's Mercedes Benz Fashion Week, but somehow I have. I'm hoping this will be my foot in the door, or at least the make or break in my current ideal career choice. However, if it does ruin my hopes of becoming a famous fashion journalist I know that it will not ruin the rest of this course for me.

Fashion Week in Paris