A fashion assistant's job is to be invisible and indispensable at the same time. It's a strange, beautiful math. I'm still learning it.
A real day looks like this: in by 9, emails, source a specific shade of dusty rose silk by 11, pick up trims from 39th before lunch, fittings from 2 to 5, technical drawings from 5 to 7, redo a sleeve the designer doesn't like from 7 to 9, home, hopefully.
I keep a small sketchbook in my bag. Not for dreams; for evidence. Every day I write one sentence about something I learned. Yesterday: shoulder seams should fall exactly where the bone ends, not where the fabric wants to end. Today: a good fitting is 30% technical and 70% making the person in the garment feel safe.
The glamorous version of this job is an hour a season. The rest is sleeves. The rest is standing. The rest is caring about a 2 mm difference no one will ever notice except the one person you want to notice.
I love it. I really do. I can't believe I'm allowed to do this.
Love,