In May, my internship ended with JEZEBEL. After five long months (three of which I knew there was no future employment to be had), I couldn't have been happier to leave. I found that it was a lot easier to work for free when there was the hope of getting a job at the end of the torture. When I finally spoke to my editor (who is a real peach, lemme tell ya), she made clear that when the internship was over, so was my time at the magazine... At that point I began the big girl job search.
For as long as I can remember, I swore I would never work retail. My justification was that I wasn't going to college (and getting two degrees) to be a sales associate at some second rate boutique. It took me a year after college graduation to finally succumb to this horrendous economic state, and apply for a retail position. My first stops were the Bloomingdale's and Nordstrom websites. I figured if I was going to stoop to retail, at least I was going to do it right. (Sidenote: For anyone reading this who works retail, please don't be offended by my attitude toward the profession. After being within the field, I have a newfound respect for my fellow sales associates, and begrudge you nothing for working retail too.) Shortly after sending in my applications, I scheduled interviews with both stores and found myself in an unfamiliar situation: Both were interested in offering me positions.
After weighing the pros and cons of positions at both stores, specifically the ridiculous difference in pay between the two, I opted for Bloomingdale's. I started working in the men's department in mid-May, and was thrown into the deep end without so much as a lesson on sizing, product knowledge, or how to work with complete douche bag know-it-alls. And while at first I was frustrated by the lack of preparation I got, I have to say looking back that on-the-job training is some of the best. I taught myself how to measure a guy's neck size and sleeve length, both of which are important in determining shirt size (another tidbit that might have been crucial to know before I started selling dress shirts). I learned all about the differences between Canali, Zegna, Boss, and Abboud, and quickly picked up the concept of inter-selling (bringing your customer to more than just your own department, so that you can sell shoes to go with that suit he just bought, and a pair of jeans to wear when he gets off of work and meets friends for drinks at the Tavern). Now, two months in, I find myself happy to be in the men's department, as opposed to frustrated and confused like I was at first.
In addition to the new job, I've undergone another significant change in my life. Like any normal 23-year-old, moving out of your parents' house is an important step in life. Now, I got lucky. I very easily could have been stuck at home for another year (as if one wasn't enough), but thanks to Craigslist and an overwhelming need for independence, I was able to find an incredible place to live so that my parents can once again be empty nesters. One month ago, I moved into an adorable house in Virginia Highlands with two friends, and I honestly couldn't be happier. Yes, I'm now completely broke (having to buy a new laptop so that I could blog for you obsessive freaks didn't help with my financial situation), and yes, complete independence has its disadvantages (i.e. no more mooching off of mom and dad's refrigerator), but I wouldn't trade it for anything. I live less than 15 minutes from work, a mere hop, skip, and a jump compared to my previous commute of nearly 40, I'm walking distance from the center of Virginia Highlands, and when I come home, no one judges me if I want to drink half a bottle of wine while lounging on my screened-in porch. All in all, life is pretty damn good.
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Welcome back. The blogosphere just wasn't the same without you. Blogosphere is a stupid word.
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