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Laugh with me, not at me
It's a well known fact that in the fashion industry for certain people it's Christmas every day. In fact I can't help wondering what the fashion press squeal on Christmas morning when their loved ones hand over a gift.
"What, it's not limited edition?!", "Did someone fly this over?", "I hope the Fashion Editor of 'rival magazine' hasn't got one".
Must make for awkward gift-giving sessions, and it's also the same in P.R world where quite often and for special events (read everyday) P.R's get to wear their brand's clothes - understandly a great perk, and for this reason there's nothing worse than meeting a P.R that works for a generous luxury brand.
The deal usually ensures the P.R is dressed head to foot in designwear (and from the forthcoming season nonetheless) thus ensuring he/she never has to set foot in Zara again. Most P.R's attempt to keep this little perk under their hats for the sake of common decency - but this weekend I managed to find myself next to one - who was more than happy to broadcast the fact to ANYONE who'd listen.
Tugging at the jacket I was wearing she asked "who it was". Replying with the name of the store of where I bought it, the P.R began smirking.
"You mean you buy clothes??!" She replied.
"Yes" I answered, wondering if perhaps 'shoplifting Winona style' was back in vogue given the economic crisis.
"Does anyone still buy clothes??" She smirked, laughing at me (and I repeat at me, not with me).
"Erm, yes". I replied, wondering if she'd had too many free vodka martinis.
"God. That's sick" she replied, and thus answering all my questions as to how and why my credit bill has been so out of proportion to everyone else's for most of my career.
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