Who Wants to Work for Plum Sykes?

I didn’t get the memo. According to The New York Times Mondays are the new Thursdays. That’s it- next semester I’m making Wednesdays the new Mondays.

Today in French class, we had to make up an imaginary French holiday to write back to our American friend who wrote about Thanksgiving. I made up “Parisienuvus.” It’s a holiday that occurs on 1 December every year. The Parisiens dress all in black, smoke cigarrettes all day long at the cafe as they sip coffee. How is this different than any other day in Paris, you may ask? Well, on Parisienuvus they also hit Americans with baguettes. Repeatedly… and effectively. It’s kind of like when you have a pinata at your birthday party- same idea.

As sad as it might seem, Toby Young still amuses me.

My professor just e-mailed me with a forward for a job description to work for Plum Sykes. I’m laughing so hard I don’t know what to do. In the body of the text, there is an address, which I believe to be Plum’s actual HOME address… and then her e-mail address. I’m really tempted to apply. It would just be too hilarious.

But after working at several fashion-heavy publications and just hearing about Conde Nasty from other interns and in the gossips I’m leery to become a part of that whole fashion scene again. I’ve been there. Done that. And god, are those people shallow and vacuous! All about the parties and the free gifts and the yadda yadda yadda.

And Plum Sykes! Dear lord. Just the idea of having to work with one of the most well-known fashion socialites is enough to make me vomit. It’d be intense. I’ll sleep on it. Maybe I could be the next Toby Young!