My sincere hope is that this post will fuel my fellow lackey interns with hope of a brighter and more luxurious future.
The intern is still not free. Over one hundred years later, the wardrobe of the intern is still sadly crippled by the manacles of unpaid labor and the chains of unreachable retail prices. Over one hundred years later, the intern lives in a small dormitory of poverty in a midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity and Prada heels. Over one hundred years later, the intern is still languished in the corners of Forever 21 and finds herself an exile in her own luxury-wearing land. And so I’ve come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
I have a dream that one day the intern will rise up and live out the true meaning of fashion: “We hold these truths to be self evident, that all fashion lovers are created equal.”
I have a dream today.
…but until tomorrow or maybe in 10 years, when the intern can afford her Miu Miu and Philip Lim, she will continue to rifle through the sale racks of H&M and Zara, weeding through counterfeits on eBay, wondering when this chapter in life will finally conclude. That being said, below is how I still manage to love the junk out of clothes and put myself together for work on a very…ahem…limited budget.
Dress: Forever 21 (similar style here )
Shoutout to my roommate for taking these supremely awkward photos for five entire days.