A Million Girls Would Kill For This Job, part 2

How I left my career in fashion.

Welcome back! In part one of this little two-post series, I took you through the first years of my fashion career - from working in a lingerie shop to being an online editor at one of Italy’s largest digital retailers. We left off as I was preparing to leave my job, studio flat, and merry band of buddies in Milan to move to London and take the magazine world by storm. At least that was the plan.

It’s Unusual

I landed in London with a clear vision: I was going to be a magazine journalist. I had paid my dues and would finally step into my real career. All those years I’d spent writing Shop Now at the bottom of countless newsletters - I’d get my long-awaited retribution. The time had come for me to shine professionally. It was time to…Show Them.

My first job interview was for an eco-fashion communications agency. They interviewed me at Sketch, possibly one of the most beautiful restaurants in the world. I was hugged and told “congratulations” at the end of the interviewing process. Could it be this easy, I wondered. And then they chose someone else.

My next interview was for one of the biggest lifestyle magazines in the country. It was for an internship. I was 29. The person interviewing me looked about 26. I was rejected.

Blurry pic from the first official London Fashion Week show I got invited to: Topshop Unique

Another interview was as content editor for an up-and-coming fashion brand’s website. The person who was leaving the role took me out for lunch and warned me to not take the job because it was so horrible.

After my next interview, I was offered a full-time position, with a salary of £15k. I emailed back asking if they had meant to write £25k. They had not. I declined.

In one of my most memorable interviews for an upscale personal-styling agency, I was asked over and over again about my veganism. “You’re vegan…and you want to work in fashion,” they kept saying. I was, of course, already working in fashion. "It’s so unusual.” I mumbled something about Stella McCartney. I was not hired.

After over 20 interviews, I finally got a job as…not a magazine writer. At all. Not even close. I was going to be a copywriter for a multi-brand retailer, writing product descriptions. After writing Shop Now for years, I was now writing “suede pump, stiletto heel, pointed toe”, 123 times per day. It didn’t seem to me like I’d come a long way from Milan at all, and at least there, I’d had friends.

But I was also starting to get freelance clients. Real, actual publications, who wanted me to write about ethical fashion and sustainability. Slowly, I was building up my portfolio and making connections. I wrote from my room in my shared flat. I wrote from cafès and libraries. I wrote from the heart - or at least I tried to, when I wasn’t too worried about my rent.

It was during this time that I launched my digital vegan fashion magazine. More about that here:

The Journey of Starting, Running and Closing Down My Own Online Magazine

But while I was running this entirely unpaid endeavour, I still needed to, you know, eat and pay the rent.

Oh My God, That’s So Bad

Imagine my total joy when I was offered a brief freelance contract at my dream company. I walked in there absolutely beaming. It was happening. I was here! I couldn’t wait for the temp contract to go permanent so I could update my LinkedIn. Everyone knew this company. That would really Show Them.

Only I never did. Because it was the worst job I’ve ever had.

A highlight of my career was sitting front row at Helsinki Fashion Week

I remember wandering around the nearby shopping centre at lunch on my own - no one ever asked me to go to lunch with them. Not even on my first day. My boss and her assistant read through my work and exclaimed, “oh my God, that’s so bad” - while I was sitting right next to them and could hear every word. When my temporary contract was up and my tenure in the reign of the Mean Girls was over, my husband and I celebrated with a nice dinner. It’s incredible sometimes how quickly a dream job can turn into a nightmare.

My next role - and my final role in fashion - was at a hipster-y startup in Old Street. The hours were 9am - 6.30pm and not only did everyone act like this was completely normal, they also showed no sign of leaving when the clock finally hit 6.30. I remember the dirty looks when I stood up around 7pm to take on my 1.5-hour journey home. The kitchen was always full of free food and coffee, there was weekly beer and wine nights, free yoga and mindfulness sessions - all masterfully engineered to keep us from going home. I kept a log of the most outrageous things I heard people say, such as “we’re not going to see any bands at Coachella, we’re just going to get drunk”, “my roommate’s weird, she cried when her cat died,” “I like this influencer, but she only has 45k followers so we can’t work with her,” and my favourite: “who eats a whole pizza? That’s such bad taste.” I was earning the biggest salary I ever had until that point, and I was profoundly miserable every single day. Some mornings, I caught myself thinking, “I made it through another day!” only to wonder what it was I was counting down to.

A fashionable exit

I didn’t think I’d get the job.

In fact, I was certain that I wouldn’t.

I had no PR experience, and I sure didn’t have any background working in animal rights. But I when I saw an opening for a PR role at animal rights organisation PETA come up, I knew I had to apply. I had previously volunteered at PETA, so I was familiar with the organisation and they knew me - but I could never imagine that I’d actually get hired. Surely they’d get a seasoned PR pro. They didn’t need me.

So when I got the email offering me the role, my initial reaction was total disbelief. My secondary reaction was just a calm, secure feeling of “yes, this is it.”

A few seasons later, I was invited back to Helsinki Fashion Week - to sit front row again, but also to be keynote speaker!

Indeed. After my first day as PR Coordinator at PETA, I came home and told my husband, “this is it. This is where I’m meant to work.”

And that’s still how I feel, nine years later. Never do I clock off feeling like I wasted that day of my life. Not even once have I had that icky feeling in my stomach that I had when I wrote about “butter-soft calfskin” and “sophisticated cashmere”. Is it all rainbows and vegan cupcakes? Obviously not - PR is hard, heartless and cutthroat sometimes. The hours can often be unpredictable. And God knows this job pushes me so far beyond my comfort zone that I can’t even see it anymore. But I’m growing every day, learning constantly, and always feel proud of the work my team and I do.

And this week, as I was promoted to Manager of PR Projects, I felt that “this is it” feeling stronger than ever.

Do I ever miss fashion? But darling, I never really left. My magazine and my job at PETA got me to the place I always wanted to be - the front row, with a ticket with my name on it, at Helsinki Fashion Week. I also got invited to speak there, along with Northern Fashion Week in Manchester. And let’s not forget my return to Milan Fashion Week…although in a quite different manner.

Plus, my work in fashion at PETA is so much more gratifying than anything I ever did while in the industry. I now oversee many of our fashion projects and do exciting things like guest-lecture at UK universities about ethical fashion - something I could never dream of doing when I was a fashion student myself.

Questions I'm Asked When I Lecture on Ethical Fashion

And yes, I still write. Oh, I write all the time. Every day. I work with a variety of beautiful vegan and ethical-living publications as a freelancer, and I have this Substack, which I didn’t expect to get this passionate about! I’ve had a non-fiction book published, and I’m working on a novel. Despite being absolutely exhausted sometimes, I feel like the puzzle has clicked into place.

Did I Show Them, in the end? I don’t think so. But even if I had, I doubt they’d care. That’s the thing about Showing Them - it only matters in your mind. The people whom you want to show…chances are they’d just shrug and move on with their lives. And you know what? So should you. I don't think I even care anymore. I’m not in competition with anyone. Let them win. Let them think I am a nerd - I am! All I want is to do good, feel inspired, and work with great people. As long as I have that, I’ll be happy, whether I am sitting in the front row, speaking at a university, or frantically typing on my laptop with a gallon of coffee. I’m where I’m supposed to be.

Turns out a million girls were wrong.