Chapter Text
Andy had to admit, Elias Clarke’s human resources department were extremely organised. She was given two weeks to prepare for an interview with them, but they wouldn’t tell her for which publication.
So, Andy decided to do her research. Taking to her laptop, she began with a simple Google search for Elias Clarke and found that the publishing house managed twelve magazines. The highest grossing was Runway, and Andy wrote in her notebook next to her to pick up a copy of the latest issue. Astonishingly, the next grossing was Auto Universe. The list varied from critical thinking magazines to gardening and home improvement magazines. Once she’d compiled her list of highest grossing to least, Andy shoved her feet into a pair of flat shoes, and walked out of the apartment she shared with Nate with a determined pace.
Thankfully, she only had to carry the twelve magazines down the street to get back to her apartment, and placed each one on the coffee table, highest grossing to least. Runway was practically a tome, whilst the lowest grossing, Gardening Solutions felt like a pamphlet. With all the magazines facing her, their names emblazoned across the front, Andy went back to her laptop and searched for news concerning each magazine. After ten minutes she reached over and yanked the two least grossing, and thinnest magazines off her table and onto the floor. Elias Clarke had released news yesterday that they planned to merge Gardening Solutions with their third popular home improvement magazine Spaces and planned to cease publishing the least popular magazine Trending. Apparently that magazine had dropped in ratings when the hipsters decided that they found the critiques on vegan lifestyles to be offensive. Andy assumed that meant that there was no job openings for either magazine.
Over the course of an hour, she had managed to whittle down her pile to two magazines. Runway or Auto Universe.
It was hard to imagine that the world’s most popular fashion magazine shared a building with a popular magazine about vehicles and bikes.
Reaching over to open the fashion magazine first, Andy found herself sucked into the fashion choices, and reading each article with interest. Hell, there were a lot of pieces in the magazine that she would wear herself, if she had the money for them. The articles proved to be interesting, one about the sustainability of faux fur and its effect on the planet and another stating that fashion had a responsibility to display clothing and designs on all body types and that every person had a right to enjoy fashion in all forms and sizes. Andy found herself engrossed, and was soon turning the last page, and having an epiphany.
She’d enjoyed every page until the end.
Whilst she’d been in college, she’d thought herself above the idea of fashion, scoffing at the women who’d turned up for workshops and lectures in full makeup and heels, not seeing the need to. In the year and a half that she’d graduated, she’d followed them on Linked In or Instagram and found them succeeding and doing well. She found that many of them gained their internships after networking at events, where first impressions really did count.
She was an idiot.
Sighing, she leaned back against the couch. How could she be so narrow minded? Of course first impressions counted! She’d been so focused on reaching her major career goals that she forgot all the little steps she’d need to take to get there to begin with. Hoops had to be jumped through to reach the finish line.
She wanted to smack herself in the face with the magazine. Time to start with a little step. As she’d turned page after page in the magazine, she’d noticed the extravagant and coiffed hair and it had reminded her that she desperately needed to cut hers. She’d been putting it off, thinking to herself that it wouldn’t matter. But having well kept hair would matter, especially to a hiring manager.
Placing her laptop on top of the copy of Auto Universe, she grabbed her phone, spending about ten minutes searching through Google for a well-reviewed hair stylist near her. Happy with the one she’d found, who’d posted five minutes previously that she had room for a complete restyle on her Facebook page, she copied the phone number and called the salon.
Fifteen minutes later Andy was out the door, purse in hand and her phone open to get the directions to the salon.
Nate doesn’t say anything about her new hairstyle when he comes home. She’s about two hours deep into research on Nigel Kipling, the Art Editor of Runway, and is fascinated with the way the man picks out his designs for each issue. She watches an old Instagram Live video where he showed each step he went through, and how he described each piece of clothing.
“Hi babe.” He stands by the now closed door, confused when Andy simply waves her hand in greeting, earbuds in her ears, continuing with her notes. “Did I do something?”
“I’m busy, Nate. I texted you and Lily earlier why I wouldn’t be coming out with you guys tonight.”
“Yeah, but I’m home.”
“And?” Andy looks up, tucking her now shoulder length hair behind her ear and removing one earphone.
“Well, we always do something when I come home.” Not for the first time, Nate reminds Andy of a whining child. They’d been hopelessly romantic in their first two years together, but now Andy was finding that she was tiring of having to constantly explain that she was busy sometimes, and that might mean some late nights. She felt like she was his mother rather than his girlfriend. Was she simply outgrowing him? Maybe. It might bear thinking some more about.
“Well tonight I’m busy. I’m prepping for that interview, that I called you about this morning?” She waits for the flash of recognition that she knows isn’t coming. She had called him this morning, but he’d been too busy talking about a sauce to her instead of actually listening.
“Er…yeah, the interview. But that’s like a month away.”
“Two weeks, and there’s a lot to prepare.” Andy puts the earbud back in her ear. “I’ll come to bed when I’m finished.”
Huffing, the man moves across the living room, the glossy cover of Runway catching his eye. He picks it up and eyes it with contempt. He couldn’t understand why people would read such a thing, and thought that people who dressed in the expensive labels were ridiculous and worth his contempt.
“Put it back please, I need that for reference.” Andy can see out of the corner of her eye what he’s thinking of doing. Sighing as if he’s been asked to move furniture on his own, he drops the thick magazine with a clatter to the table and stomps off to their bedroom, closing the door with a thud.
“Goodnight!” She calls sarcastically, not wanting to put up with his petulance. She knew exactly what this was about. Lily had texted earlier asking if she wanted to meet up after Nate finished work to get drinks, and Andy had refused. Lily had scoffed at her reasoning of interview prep and Andy hadn’t bothered answering her texts after that. Doug had messaged her about an hour later, wishing her luck in her prep and telling her to not burn the midnight oil. That text had gotten a response.
Andy eventually closed the laptop as the clock was inching closer to 1am. Not wanting to share a bed with Nate, she pulls the throw blanket over her legs and cuddles into the pillows on the couch.
Nate carries on his grudge the next day after waking up to find that Andy’s side of the bed hadn’t been slept in, and that she was already on her second walk around Central Park, trying to brainstorm ideas in her head for potential interview questions she could ask either the HR manager or whoever would be interviewing her.
When she gets home, she finds the bedroom door closed but her copy of Runway and Auto Universe in the trash bin in the kitchen.
Sighing at his petulance and wondering, yet again why she continued to put up with it, she digs them out of the bin, and dusts them off, thankfully finding that nothing wet had been thrown into the trash afterwards without a second glance.
She eyes the bedroom door, and the muted sound of Prison Break coming from Nate’s phone as he watched the series, and decides that she has better things to be doing instead of picking a fight that will end with Nate slamming things around and pouting.
Andy had some savings, and after careful checking and making sure that she had enough in her account to cover her living expenses for at least two months, she thought about any way she could find some decent clothing, preferably with a designer label in the city for a fair price. There was eBay of course, but she preferred feeling the clothing, and holding it up to herself and trying it on before buying. She’d ordered a chenille sweater in a hideous blue colour from eBay once, not realising the material was one she couldn’t stand because the seller hadn’t listed it in the description. Not to mention the colour was completely different blue than what was listed. She’d simply donated it after three days, and was glad that the sweater wasn’t taking up space balled up in the back of her closet.
Once more, she took to Google with her trusty notebook at her side.
After making a note of some Goodwill stores that were known on social media for having some bargains, she struck gold. There were two stores in New York that carried only second-hand designer clothing and she thought it would be worth the hour trip on the subway and then the ten minute walk to see what the store had to offer.
Making sure that she had her purse with everything inside, she shrugged on her jacket and rushed her feet into her trusty black flats. As she put her hand on the door handle to open the front door she glanced back at her laptop, still open on the coffee table. She turns on her heel, locking it and closing the lid, and then she places it and the two magazines out of sight under the couch. Nate was lazy and she didn’t want to think that he might go through her laptop, but he was petty and she’d known him to do some spiteful things when he thought that he was in the right. It was something that she’d looked past whenever he’d done something stupid previously, but she feels less able to look past it this time.
She leaves the apartment without bothering to say goodbye. She’d only be raising her voice at a closed bedroom door anyway, and she knew that the sound of the door closing would quirk Nate’s curiosity enough that he would come to see if she’d actually left.
Andy makes her way to the nearest subway entrance, and prepares herself for an hour of travelling underground and switching trains.
She emerges up the stairs into the heart of the fashion district in New York. Digging into her purse for her phone, she pulls up the directions she’d jotted down in her notes and makes her way down the streets for ten minutes, eventually stopping outside of a small shop with mannequins in the window showing dresses with 1950’s silhouettes and classic 90’s mini dresses, and accessories dotted around.
She pushes open the door, and the bell above the entrance tinkles, drawing the attention of the two women chatting at the counter. One is a younger African American woman, with black cat-eye glasses, bouncy brown curls frame her head and she has a figure that Andy finds herself jealous of. She’s stylish, wearing high waisted cigarette trousers with a crisp white blouse tucked in, highlighting her waist. A simple pair of earrings and a ring on her thumb are her only accessories .
The woman behind the counter is older, her hair silver and tucked back into an updo on her head that harkens back to the 1940’s. Daring red lipstick and bright blue eyes highlight her face. Andy can’t see what she’s wearing beyond a blouse that nips in at her waist, but assumes that she’s just as fashionable as the woman on the other side of the counter.
“Hi, welcome to Garms, tiny superstore of designer beauties!” The old woman lifts her arms out with a flourish, making both Andy and the other woman in the store grin and giggle.
“I need your help, I think.” Andy says, walking closer to the pair, both looking at her with curiosity now. “I need a whole new wardrobe, and a decent interview outfit that wont make me look like my grandma.”
The two at the counter laugh and grin at her.
“That’s no problem, honey. We’ll get you sorted in no time.” She edges around the counter, and Andy sees that what she thought was a nipped in blouse, is actually a pencil dress and it hugs the woman’s curves as she walks to the door and turns the sign from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed.’
“I’m Audrey, and this lovely woman is Lydia.” The older woman motions to the curly haired fashionista, clearing off the counter to make some space. Lydia looks up and offers a friendly grin to her. “How much of a new wardrobe are we talking about here?” Audrey looks at her, a pen in her hand, poised over a notepad.
“All of it!”
The two women beam in excitement at her, and get to work.
Following a measuring session in her underwear, taking detailed notes on bust, waist and hip measurements, as well as leg and arm length, and her shoe size, Lydia and Audrey ask her about colour preferences and silhouettes. Andy finds the two very easy to like, and surprisingly, is at ease with them.
“Now I’m assuming you don’t want the flared, big skirt of the 50’s?” Lydia asked, smiling at her. Andy had explained at length about her epiphany yesterday to them and the two had grinned at her, Lydia nodding and making her curls bounce. Andy explained her love for pants, and suits in general, and pencil skirts, but never felt like she could wear them without scorn when hanging out with her friends. Explaining her interest in Runway, Audrey had turned to Lydia, who proclaimed herself an avid lover of the magazine.
“Runway has a way of opening your eyes when you pay attention. Miranda Priestly has a fantastic eye for fashion.” Lydia said, moving her notepad to the side. “Gimmie one minute, I’ve got the latest edition. We’ll get some ideas on silhouettes from there.”
A moment later, the bouncy woman is back, and flipping through the pages of the magazine Andy had rushed out yesterday to get, showing her silhouettes that had been inspired from the 40’s and 50’s in trousers and pencil skirts that would suit her. Every single one of them highlighted the curves of a woman’s body, and Andy found herself sighing in appreciation at the outfits on the models. Although she wasn’t too keen on some of the more crazy prints, she could appreciate most of them on the page.
“So, we’ll start with the silhouettes that Lydia has picked out, seeing as you liked them so much in the magazine, and we’ll go from there. Don’t worry, Andrea, you’re safe with us!”
“How did you know my name?”
“Andy sounds like it’s a nickname from Andrea. Although, I don’t know why you don’t use that more often, it’s a beautiful name. Embrace it.” Audrey winks at her, getting up and disappearing into the racks upon racks of clothing towards the back of the store, notebook in hand. They can hear her talking to herself, dismissing some options and making ‘Aha!’ sounds when she found something.
The woman was a powerhouse, making Andy feel like she needed to sit up straight and take notes on the things she said. Her grandmother had been similar, and Andy wishes that she’d lived to see her graduate college. She might have been more help with her clothing choices.
“This is gonna sound like a weird question, when was the last time you bought a new bra?”
Andy blinks at her, shocked at her question, but finding herself answering it without hesitation.
“I…actually don’t remember.”
Lydia nodded. “Hm, I thought so. Most important thing to remember, good underwear makes a huge difference in how you carry yourself. So go over the road, there’s a lingerie boutique. Juliette is the name of the owner, she’s French. Tell her you need to be measured and that you need a whole set.”
“Lingerie, really?!” Andy doesn’t understand why it’s such a big deal. When she says so, Lydia shakes her head gently at her, like an older sister would when their younger sibling says something utterly preposterous. Ironic when considering that Andy was four years older than her.
“You’re getting a whole new wardrobe, but want to be walking around in the same old bras and panties that you’ve had for months? Nuh uh.” Lydia, seeing the same blank face on Andy’s face and decides its time to educate her. “Good underwear is the foundation to your outfit. It will make you carry it better, and feel better in it because the lingerie you wear underneath gives you the confidence to walk down the street feeling like a movie star.”
“Seriously?!”
Audrey emerges from the stacks of clothing, carefully placing a handful of hangers with clothes on them over the back of the antique sofa Andy is sat on, walking with purpose despite the height of her heels. “Yes seriously, darling. Good lingerie is essential. Go and tell Juliette that you need a new full set, in the three main colours, and she’ll sort you out. Tell her Audrey sent you and you’ll get a good deal.” She returns to the rails of clothes to hunt through them with precision.
So Andy is shooed out of the door, whilst Lydia reassures her that by the time she’s back, they’ll have found everything she needs.
Andy does as she’s told, Audrey’s words in her head.
Juliette does the same thing as Audrey did with her shop, placing the sign on the door stating that they were closed, after she explains why she’s there, and exclaims that Audrey was right to send her. The woman is a hyperactive French woman with a sultry edge to her, and whips out a tape measure that Andy has no idea where she was hiding it.
An hour and a half later, Andrea exits the boutique with multiple bags, and leaves with a hug from Juliette and cheek kisses, plus telling her to come back to see her soon. Andy has tucked her business card in her purse, something telling her that she’d be back sooner rather than later. It was more than she’d ever spent on underwear in her life, but after ten minutes of agonising over it, decided to see it as an investment, much like the new wardrobe Audrey and Lydia were putting together. You needed to invest in yourself to see results, right?
She walks with purpose back over to Garms, where Lydia has seen her coming and opened the door to help her. Laughing together, they put the bags behind the counter and retreat to the back fitting room to where Audrey has put together an impressive display of clothing.
Together the three women go through each one, trying it on and Andy having the final say on whether she likes it or not. Unlike other boutiques, there’s no snide looks if Andy rejects one, the item is simply placed back on the hanger and put on a rack to one side for the two women to put away later. Lydia is on standby with a large, expanding case of dressmaker’s supplies, and a pin cushion on her wrist, filled with metal pins, and a tape measure around her neck. When Andy needs anything shortened, Lydia is there, pinning and pressing and then disappearing into a small room for ten minutes whilst Andrea tries on other pieces of clothing. Thankfully, Andy didn’t need much to be altered. But both Audrey and Lydia press on her the importance of tailoring, and to come to them for anything to be adjusted.
Andrea spends nearly three hours at the boutique. By the time they’re finished, Andy has new coats, clothes and shoes as well as some accessories that Lydia had suggested. The curly haired black woman had told her to go through her closet when she got home, and throw everything that made her feel like crap when she wore it away in the trash. And to throw her old underwear in the trash too. When she leaves, Audrey calls for a town car, waving off Andrea’s exclamations, stating that they’d foot the bill as part of their service with her. Lydia sensibly points out that there’s no way she can take all her bags on the subway. As they wait for the car to arrive, Audrey scribbles down her phone number, both cell and store phone and tells Andrea that she’s always available if she has a styling question.
Lydia, on the other hand, has added Andy as a friend on Facebook, followed her on Instagram and also connected with her on LinkedIn. The two remind each other of the brunch they’ve promised they’ll go to, as Lydia had promised to help her with interview prep. They also exchange phone numbers.
When the car arrives, and the bags are all packed neatly into the trunk, Audrey and Lydia give her a sturdy hug, remind her to come visit soon and they bundle her into the back of the car and stand in the street, waving until the car turns a corner.
When she arrives home, Nate is at work and Andy decides to do as Lydia has told her to whilst she has some peace to not be judged on her purchases.
Throwing open the closet, she’s surprised by how much clothing she throws into a bag to be donated. She hadn’t realised that so many of her clothes made her feel badly about herself, or the ones that she hasn’t worn in months. She doesn’t bother trying to sort the underwear drawer, she simply tips the entire thing into the trash bag to be disposed of.
She uses the time to think about her relationship with Nate, as she moves some of his clothes out of the way. He’d been surly and distant for months now, not supportive with each new rejection to job applications that came back. And then there was the lack of support of her dreams for her career. He kept pushing for her to settle into something, any job that would take her. She felt that if Nate had his way she’d be a waitress in the restaurant he worked at and be happy with her lot in life. But Andy wanted more. She wanted to be successful, and she’d admit that she was ambitious. It was something that she would never have admitted in college, but felt it was the truth. Nate was happy where he was, Andrea wanted more, and wanted someone who would support that. The only one of her friends that could appreciate that was Doug, who worked as a finance analyst at Goldman-Sachs and dreamed of an office with a view within the C-Suite. Lily worked at the art gallery, but if it didn’t include art, then she wasn’t interested. She’d think about speaking to Nate about their relationship sometime soon. Maybe before the interview.
Happy with how she’s managed to organise her closet with her new clothes and shoes, Andy supposes that she needs to do some research into Auto Universe.
Auto Universe is not as fun to read as Runway.
She dives in nonetheless, knowing that she needs to be prepared.
When Nate comes home, he doesn’t even bother to comment on the closet, not noticing any change, but he huffs and puffs when Andy explains that she’s researching the motoring magazine this time.
The rest of the week passes in the same way. Andy researches on and off all day, for either magazine. Saturday arrives and she’s out with Lydia, who apparently is a Miranda Priestly fangirl. Nate whines about that too, trying to insist that she cancel the brunch to spend time with him. But Andy puts her foot down, stating that she doesn’t expect him to cancel plans with his friends. His response of what friends did she have beyond Doug and Lily was ignored and answered with a slam of the front door. The comment makes her angry because its true.
Andy listens to Lydia wax poetic about the woman’s reach as the Editor in Chief, how she changed the magazine into the powerhouse it was now, and the admiration she had for the fashion maven in how she bulldozed through the fashion world, not taking any bullshit or excuses when a shoddy job was done.
Lydia asked Andy if she knew what she was getting into.
“Listen, Miranda Priestly goes through assistants quicker than I go through underwear. Some people go and expect to skate by doing the bare minimum and they get picked apart very quickly. Working for her in any capacity means some late nights, a bit of stress, and probably running around New York for something or other. You ready for that, if you get the job? Is your boyfriend?” Lydia is brutally honest with her, Andy finding that she enjoys it. Lily and Nate mostly just pandered to whatever the group thought, and had no problem airing out grievances but not willing to listen to explanations. Andy had explained to Lydia how she was questioning whether she should be with Nate, with how he was behaving and how she was sick of it. Not surprisingly, Lydia offers honest advice.
“Andy. Listen to me. If you aren’t happy, leave. I know its easy for me to say, I’m single as hell, but don’t stay and let the bad fester in you with every passing day. That’s no good for anyone.” She sipped on her coffee, looking at her.
“But my friends are his friends too.”
“Honey, if your friends side with him when you’ve done nothing but try and chase your dreams, and better yourself then they weren’t really your friends in the first place.”
Andy has to sit quietly after that, Lydia’s words flying around her head. They sit and looking through each page of the last three issues of Runway that Lydia had brought with her, the woman quizzing her on designers, the names of clothing collections, dates and articles.
“Show your interest in the magazine, it shows you did your research.” Andy noted that down in her notepad. “Fashion is a living, breathing thing because people live by it every day. Show that.”
“Don’t blather on, and don’t go off on a tangent. Keep your conversation to the point. She’s a busy woman. She probably won’t look at any articles you bring with you so don’t be offended, but keep them in a folder with you, just in case she asks. Better to have them and not need them.” Andy makes a note.
“Her first assistant is going to probably be very judgemental and harsh, don’t judge her for that. Think of her as the gatekeeper to Miranda. She stops any weasels getting in through the door that want to waste her time. She has to be harsh. But don’t take any shit from her either.”
And on through the afternoon they go, Lydia offering very sage advice. Andrea is very curious as to how she knows so much. So she asks.
“I interned at Runway for three months when I was 20.”
Andy’s mouth falls open. Lydia is 21 and in fashion school but spends a lot of time helping Audrey, who lets her alter any clothing that is requested. Andy had no idea that she’d managed to intern at Runway, and says so.
“Miranda Priestly gives a recommendation for any assistant that works for her for a year. She offers the same for any intern who finishes the three months. There were four of us at the start, I was the only one stood in front of her on my last day. Her recommendation helped me get a scholarship to Parsons School of Design. It made all the difference. I was just sorry I couldn’t be there for longer.” Lydia drains her cup of coffee. “I was doing a paper route at fourteen to pay for a copy of the magazine each month, and I asked my grandma to teach me to sew at twelve. Runway is my bible and Miranda Priestly is my God.” She grins at Andy, who suddenly gets it.
Andy understands now why Lydia is Miranda Priestly’s number one fan. She understands the slander that the Editor in Chief gets daily from the tabloids, calling her the Dragon Queen, or the Ice Queen. According to Lydia, the woman was firm and fast paced, and expected a task to be done right the first time. The more incompetent someone was, the more ridiculous tasks were assigned, almost as if to prove the point. If Lydia was to be believed, if you proved your mettle with the Queen of Runway, you were treated as such, she referred to Nigel Kipling, who had been the Art Editor for the past five years.
“Don’t go in thinking its just for a year. A lot of people do that. Think of it as a place to grow, where if you get in, you can work your way up. Like anywhere else, you have to pay your dues.”
“Stop being so wise, Lydia!” The pair laugh into their coffee, and then realise that they’ve been there for three hours and are on their fifth cup each.
Lydia offers her a big reassuring hug, tells her to Facetime her the night before so she can help her pick out her outfit, and they separate on the subway, Lydia going back to her apartment in the fashion district, and Andy heading home.
In the week before the interview, Andrea confronts Nate.
It does not go well.
She explains to him the likelihood of late nights, and not being able to join everyone on a night out and the man gets huffy, as if he doesn’t work late nights himself as a chef.
“I don’t see why you need to change for a job!” He gestures wildly, using his hands to point towards the bedroom. “You got new clothes, new lacy underwear and HEELS! You don’t wear heels Andy! I’m not dumb, I know what red bottoms on shoes mean! Even if they’re scuffed to shit!”
“Maybe I do like heels, but I’ve never felt comfortable wearing them in front of you.” She retorts, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed. Andy isn’t unaware of the fact that Lydia and Audrey had outfitted her entire wardrobe with well known designers for a fraction of the cost, and she’s very grateful. She’s worn the clothes whenever she’s been out, and seeing the appreciative looks from staff at a restaurant and the better service, or when she went to pick out a necklace for her mother’s birthday, she’d immediately been assisted by the clerk in the jewellery store. She hated that expensive clothes and confidence made all the difference, but money talked, even if the money wasn’t hers. She’d immediately understood what Lydia had meant about underwear being the foundation for an outfit. She’d strutted down every street ever since her trip to Juliette’s boutique.
First impressions count.
“What happened to being a journalist?!”
“Did you start as a sous-chef at the restaurant when you first started? No. You worked your way up, Nate. Same thing applies.” Andrea stays calm and collected from her spot resting against the counter, whereas Nate is getting heated, his voice rising.
“Its literally an assistant job! What would it matter?! Its not like you’re actually going to be a journalist anyway, not here!”
Andy freezes. Slowly, her gaze morphs into a glare.
“Explain. Now.”
Nate turns to face her, his features contorted into a sneer. “Midwest girl thinking she can make it in the big city with her words? This isn’t a movie, Andy! Things like that don’t happen to Midwest girls, not you, they settle for jobs like assistants to the assistants and never go anywhere.” Andy knew Nate had the ability to be cruel, she just didn’t think it would ever be directed at her.
“You’ll end up going back to Ohio, Andy, because you wont make it here.”
“Get the fuck out.”
Calmly, she herds Nate backwards, who’s in shock at her stern tone and calm manner and the fact that she swore at him. “I supported you through all your training to be a chef, Nate. Forgave all the long nights, all the missed dates because you were working on being the best. Now, when I ask for the same support, you don’t want to give it? Fine. But that means I don’t want you, or need you to succeed. I will make it on my own two feet, doing what I can. So pack your shit, and get out. Go and stay with Lily, she seems to be your number one fan. Or Doug, I don’t care. But you aren’t staying here tonight. I’m done, we’re done.”
Nate collapses into the couch, mouth hanging open as Andy walks away from him, straight into the bedroom, pulling out his duffel bags, and yanking open the door to the closet. Pulling clothes out of drawers and off hangers, she turns to find Nate standing in the doorway, stuttering apologies at her.
Shaking her head, Andy zips the bags shut.
“I’m serious, I’m done Nate. If this is what you’re like now, then I don’t want to imagine what six months down the line is going to be like if I get this job. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us. You aren’t staying here tonight.” She flings one bag to his feet and reaches for her phone, opening up a joint text to Lily and Doug, explaining the situation. She expects an angry text from Lily and an understanding one from Doug.
Nate collects his things from the living room, small things like his laptop and phone charger. He leaves the apartment quietly with two duffel bags and his backpack, as quiet as a mouse. She’s a little surprised, she’d expected him to put up a fuss, shout, maybe throw things. Lily had called him after receiving her text, likely to say how mean she was being and of course he could stay with her. Doug had sent one single line of text:
About time. He’ll stay at Lily’s.
Andy had grinned at that, Doug was always the friend that saw things with the bigger picture, and he’d seen and approved of Andy’s new wardrobe change when she’d shown him on Facetime, with her voice filled with excitement. He’d noticed the excited edge, the almost frantic display of the clothes that she’d found. He’d exclaimed with each one, supporting her. She hoped that Doug stayed her friend even with the mess with Nate. Lily likely wouldn’t, but she found that she wasn’t as upset with that as she thought.
All she got from Lily was an angry text, stating how nasty and unreasonable she was being, and how dare she kick Nate out of his apartment. Andy had to scoff at that, her name was on everything. She’d promised her parents that she would do that, so that if the relationship turned sour, Andy wouldn’t be left suddenly homeless in New York. The lease was in her name, all the furniture had been bought by her. The microwave had been bought by Nate, he could have that if he wanted. The only problem would likely come up is that she wouldn’t be able to afford the rent on the place on her own. But that was something to worry about after the interview.
She could only handle a few problems in her head at once. The least time-sensitive one could wait a bit longer.
She slept on the couch again that night, not wanting to sleep in the bed that was still unmade and smelled of Nate. She sent a quick text to Lydia, explaining what had happened, and within ten minutes, the young woman was offering to come help her after her workshops tomorrow to clear the apartment of Nate’s things. Andrea happily accepted.
They packed Nate’s things, side by side, into boxes. Most of his stuff was in the kitchen, and Lydia made a joke that Andy would need to buy plates and pans, causing the two to explode into laughter.
Lydia kept flinging Runway related questions at her, most of which she could answer successfully.
The evening had been enjoyable, until angry sounding knocking came from the door, and Lily’s voice came through the door.
“ANDREA! ANDY!”
The two in the apartment shared a look, Andy shaking her head. “I’m not answering it. She only wants to shout at me about things she doesn’t understand anyway. Leave it.” She wanders over to the kitchen to the coffee pot, filling two mugs for the both of them.
Together, they sit at the kitchen counter, silently sipping their coffee and listening to Lily bruise her hands on the front door. Thumbing through the copy of Runway on the counter, it takes about fifteen minutes for Lily to get the hint that she wouldn’t be opening the door.
Lydia and Andy work together to clear the apartment of anything to do with Nate. The bland navy bed covers were changed for blush pink, with grey throw pillows that Andy had found and had wanted to use for months, but Nate had insisted they were too ‘girly.’ The bedside tables are cleared of all the useless spare change, old receipts and watch straps that would never be usable again but that he’d insisted on keeping. Andy brings some of her smaller succulents out of the bathroom and placed one on each nightstand, finally happy to be able to spread some greenery through the apartment. By the time they were finished, the apartment felt more like Andy’s space for the first time she’d lived there. She planned to get some new curtains to match her preference but the blinds would do for now.
The sofa now had a mint green throw blanket, and grey cushions, adding to the colour of the living room. Some more plants were dotted throughout the apartment.
“Honey, you’ve been pulling this stuff out of different hiding places all day. You really didn’t get a chance to use them before this?” Lydia asks.
“Nate didn’t like them, so I didn’t bother. Why did I put up with that?” Andy questions herself, dumping another load of rubbish that Nate had pushed down the sides of the couch. “For a chef, the man really is a pig.”
Its 8pm when the two are happy with the final look of the apartment. Lydia suggests that she use the next day to take a journey to the Elias Clarke building to familiarise herself with the route and to maybe sit in the Starbucks opposite and do some people watching.
“You’ll get an idea of the best way to dress.” Lydia had said. “Besides, you might get a look at Miranda Priestly herself!” Andy had teased the other woman throughout the day for her hero worship, but Lydia had fully allowed it, accepting it as gentle banter and nothing more.
Lydia left with a final call of ‘Facetime me tomorrow night!’ and then she was gone.
The day before her interview, Andy decided to do as Lydia had suggested. She was glad that she did as the route to Elias Clarke was like a maze, and it was busy. She wore an outfit similar to what she planned for her interview, including black Louboutin heels so that she could get used to walking in them. A pair of black, trousers with wide legs with the waistband sitting right under her bust, a similar style of trouser to that of the 1950’s, paired with a crisp white blouse with quarter sleeves and a trench-coat was what she had decided on. She’d pulled her hair up into a messy bun at the back of her head, with her bangs on her forehead shining in the cold sunshine of NYC. Simple earrings and the outfit was perfect.
Surprisingly, when she’d arrived at the Starbucks, the barista had asked her if she was the new Runway assistant, but had been shocked when she’d replied in the negative. He’d given her the coffee with nearly no wait and Andy had claimed the high stool in the window to flick through Runway whilst occasionally watching people come and go from the building. There were those people who were frantic, rushing out or into the building, and then interestingly, a lot of women in obviously designer clothing stalking to and fro.
One thing appeared to be common for all the women. They were all very slim.
Andy felt that tickle in the back of her head that she’d had all the way through her teen years come back with a vengeance. But then, she stopped it in its tracks.
She loved her body. She had curves, and she was very proud of them. It had taken years not to cringe at her own reflection in the mirror, and she would not let that little self-depreciating voice in the back of her head gain any strength, ever again.
Besides, hadn’t the letter by the Editor for this month’s issue of the magazine stated clearly that fashion was for everyone, regardless of shape, size, gender or age. So Andy tamped down on the voice that tried to say she wasn’t good enough, because she knew that it wasn’t true.
As she was finishing the last of her coffee she noticed the sleek, black Mercedes pull smoothly up to the kerb. Andrea watched as one foot encased in a black stiletto stepped out, followed by another, and then the flawlessly styled white hair emerged from the darkness of the car.
Miranda Priestly.
The woman looked at the Starbucks opposite her, as if considering whether or not to grab herself a coffee and in doing so, caught Andrea’s eye. In a gesture that she’d never thought she’d do, Andy lifted the white mug of coffee in one hand, raised it in a small toast and nodded her head once with a smile in a gesture of respect. In her other hand she gripped Runway.
The Editor seemed to freeze for a moment, then gave her one nod of her head in return, and stalked off towards the Elias Clarke building, her coat flaring around her knees as she walked, people moving quickly out of her way.
Well, wasn’t that interesting?
Not bothering to get a refill on her coffee, Andy quickly pushed her arms through her coat, grabbed her belongings and sauntered out of the Starbucks, making her way home and breaking in the Louboutins at the same time.
Andy found herself sat in the same Starbucks at 8:00am the next morning, clad in the same pants as yesterday but paired it with a white pussybow blouse with quarter sleeves. The trench coat was the same, as were her shoes. But after much prodding by Lydia, she’d pulled the medium sized Prada bag from its dustbag, and filled it with the usual contents of her purse. Carefully, she’d slipped her neat folder of articles, and her resume into the bag, in case HR wanted to see them. The red of the bag gave her outfit a large pop of colour, and she was thankful that she could carry it in the crook of her elbow without it feeling too bulky. The fact that her lipstick matched the shade had made Lydia shout in triumph through the phone screen, and Andy had laughed at her antics.
Sipping on a coffee, Andy waited until 8:20am, watching people pass by, and then rose to her feet.
“Slow but steady, Sachs. We go into this place like we belong there.” She whispered to herself before stepping out of the door, crossing the road and taking a moment to simply stare up at the building.
Deep breath, Andy. Let’s do this.
And so she sauntered in. Stopping at the security desk, she found a visitors badge waiting for her, and the security guard explained which floor she’d need, winking at her and offering her a ‘good luck’ as she left.
Sherie in HR had taken her resume and spent five minutes looking over it. Andy noticed how she then looked at her entire body, from her hair, straightened and sleek down to her shoulders, with the front locks pinned back, down to her outfit and then her feet. Sherie had noticed the red bottoms on the shoes, the confident swing of Andrea’s hips as she walked and the immaculate outfit, and had known instantly that she couldn’t send this woman to Auto Universe.
“The assistant position is in Miranda Priestly’s office at Runway.” After showing her which floor, she told her to ask for Emily, once she got to the main office.
Seeing as she was early, Andy took her time and arrived at the office with 25 minutes to spare. She sauntered down the hallways, all glass walls and white doors, and eventually pushed through double doors at the furthest point in the office. A redhead sat at the desk on the left, muttering as she typed things on her keyboard and looked up when she heard the sound of the doors opening.
“Who are you?” she said with a British accent, in a brusque tone. Lydia had been right, this must be Miranda Priestly’s first assistant.
Andy remembered Audrey’s advice about her name. “Andrea Sachs. HR sent me up here.”
Similar to how Sherie’s gaze had trailed over her body, the redhead did the same, although hers felt more judgemental.
“I suppose you’ll do.” She sighed, and then locked her eyes on Andrea’s handbag, eyes widening. “Is that the vintage…”
“Prada bag? Yes. And you are?” Andy finished the woman’s sentence, and remembered the second half of Lydia’s advice. Audrey had taken nearly 15 minutes to explain the significance of the vintage handbag when she handed it over to Andrea, with Lydia nodding sagely behind her. Very few had been made, and even fewer were still in good condition. So she knew exactly why the woman in front of her was eyeing it every few seconds. Lydia had threatened to scalp her if she let anything happen to it.
“Emily Charlton. I’m Miranda’s first assistant and…” a shrill tone rung through the air, and Emily stiffened, her eyes flying wide open as she spun around to rush around her desk and yank up the cell phone from the desk.
“Oh my God, no no no!” She immediately picked up the phone and called someone. “Yes, she’s just arrived. TELL EVERYONE!”
A stylishly dressed bald man with glasses arrived next to the desk, papers slamming onto the edge with a thump and eying Andrea from the corner of his eye. “She wasn’t supposed to be here until nine.”
“Her driver just text messaged, and her facialist ruptured a disc. God these people!”
The man in the office sighed, and walked over to the main doors, holding one open and then shouting down the corridors, “Alright everyone, GIRD YOUR LOINS!”
Andrea watched as the previously calm office erupted into a myriad of activity, people dragging rails of clothing out of the way, and sprinting in high heels with arms full of papers and pictures. Emily, who was calm a moment before, was now rushing through the office, fiddling with things on the desk in the internal office and filling a clean glass with bottled water.
“Vintage Prada paired with those Valentino pants? I approve.” The sentence came from the bald man who was now stood next to her. He held out his hand, and Andrea took it, firmly shaking it. “Nigel Kipling, Art Director. I basically make the clothes work their magic.”
Andy smiled. “Andrea Sachs. Potential job candidate. I’m assuming the reason for Emily running around like a panicked chicken is that Miranda Priestly has arrived. Unexpectedly.” She kept her tone light. “I enjoyed your last Instagram Live that you did. You worked wonders on the plum dress.”
Nigel’s eyebrows rose in surprise. He’d seen many assistants walk through these doors, but this one? This one he liked. And she’d obviously done her research.
“Darling, you will have to tell me where you found that handbag. Nobody’s been able to find that particular one for years.” He smiled at her and inclined his head.
“Now that would be telling.” She smiled back, letting a small grin take over her face. Emily grabbed a notebook and a pen and sprinted out of the office without a word, letting the doors swing behind her.
“Now, I like you, sweetheart so I’m going to offer you some advice. Miranda will probably want to interview you herself because the last two Emily interviewed were fired within 6 weeks. Don’t blather, keep your sentences short and to the point and don’t dither. Clear?” Nigel looked at her as she nodded, already knowing the rules of speaking to the EIC.
“A friend of mine told me the same thing.” She said, wondering if they remembered Lydia. “Runway is her bible and Miranda Priestly is her God.” Andy watched as the man’s face erupted into a grin.
“Lydia! We miss her, she was brilliant here as an intern.” Nigel remembered the young black woman, and her sense of humour. She’d shown respect for Miranda, hadn’t taken any of the clackers haughtiness and had one hell of an eye for fabrics and designs. There was a reason why she’d been the only one left of the four interns that the magazine had accepted.
“Now, good luck, I have shoes to find.” He waved and slipped out of the door.
Moments later, Miranda Priestly herself walked through the door, unbuttoning a different coat to the one Andy had seen her wearing yesterday and Emily trailing behind her, furiously scribbling notes into the notebook. She pulled it from her shoulders and flung it towards Emily along with her handbag, who caught it with practiced ease, immediately hanging it on the hanger that had been on her desk.
“And who is that?” Miranda’s eyes gazed over her, stopping at her face and remembering the woman from Starbucks yesterday. Andy nodded at her in the same way, and the woman’s eyebrow rose.
“Nobody! Er…well she’s here for the assistant position and I was sort of pre-interviewing her for you…”
“Seeing as the last two were interviewed by you turned out to be completely useless, I shall be doing this one. With me.” She indicates with one finger for Andrea to follow with her, Emily throwing a glare at Andy, who simply raised an eyebrow and smirked at her, sauntering after the white haired editor, who was already sitting behind her desk with glasses perched on her nose.
“You may as well sit.” She gestured without looking at the chair opposite and Andy took the hint. Gently folding her trench coat over the back of the chair, she sat, leaving her handbag, carefully on the floor next to her feet.
“A vintage Prada, will wonders never cease.” Miranda looks up at her over the edge of her glasses. “Why are you here?”
“Sherie from HR sent me, it was either here or Auto Universe.” Andy had both Lydia’s and Nigel’s advice flying through her mind. Don’t dither, don’t blather, don’t dither, don’t blather. To the point, to the point.
“You obviously know of Runway. Turning up in well tailored Valentino and vintage Prada shows me that.” Andy understands that this isn’t a question.
“Andrea Sachs, graduate in journalism from Northwestern.” Andy realises a second later that Miranda had intended on interviewing her instead of her assistant the entire time, seeing as she currently held a copy of the resume she’d originally sent to HR. “Why are you here?”
“You want an honest answer, or the generic interview answer?” Andy quips, watching as one eyebrow raises in curiosity at her. She almost immediately regretted it. This was the exact opposite to what Lydia and Nigel had told her!
“Surprise me.” With this command, Andy decides that she may as well just go for it.
“I want a chance to get my feet under the table.” Andy crosses her ankles, and rests her hands in her lap. “Runway seems the perfect way to do that.”
Miranda appraised the young woman in front of her. She was open with her ambition, which was a nice change to the usual sycophants that she dealt with. And she wasn’t afraid to voice her opinion.
“Even in a second assistant role?”
“Everybody starts somewhere.”
Miranda gazed at the brunette, who met her stare with a quiet confidence, her posture never wavering. She isn’t an idiot, she recognises Lydia’s handiwork anywhere – it has been Miranda who had informed her of the location of the rare Prada bag, after all. Not to mention the fact that the prestigious scholarship that the young woman had been awarded was a cover for the fact that Miranda was paying to make sure that a talent like Lydia’s would not be lost to poverty and insufficient finances. Lydia would not have accepted Miranda’s money, the intern had made an impression during her short time at Runway and was stubbornly independent. A gifted scholarship? That would be (and had been) accepted.
So yes, if Lydia had gotten her hands on the woman in front of her, the brunette was worth a chance. Miranda put her trust in the people around her, those that were good at what they did succeeded with her. The fact that Nigel had remained steadfastly in her employ proved that. As did the fact that Emily had remained as her faithful assistant despite some of the more ridiculous demands that Miranda had placed on her within the last three years.
So it was decided.
Andrea Sachs would be given her own chance to prove her mettle with the dragon.