The other day I was on sitting on the train waiting to leave Penn Station listening to Led Zeppelin on my iPod when an old lady sat down next to me. I didn't really think much of it and continued to zone out the window. I had already been seated for a while so I, being perpetually in a rush in the city and therefore being overheated, had already taken off my coat, jacket, scarf etc. This older woman took it upon herself to ask if I had a coat (motherly instincts I'm guessing?), even though there was clearly winter outerwear on the seat next to me. When I told her that I yes, I have one, she nodded approvingly. Weirdo, I thought. She then proceeded to make a phone call in Spanish. I overheard (okay, listened intently) to her saying when she would arrive in South Orange, my stop. So after she hung up I gathered the courage to try to strike up a conversation with her in Spanish.
I found out she was from Venezuela and I explained to her how I came to speak Spanish and she was surprised that my family was not of any Spanish descent. She complimented my accent and we got to talking about my upcoming plans to study in Valencia. She was very excited for me and wished me well in my endeavors.
While it may not seem like a significant conversation, it was a small landmark in my mind in terms of the progress I have made in learning a foreign language. This is the first semester in 7 years that I have not taken a Spanish class, and ever since I moved to New Jersey I have felt that my proficiency in the language had been slipping. Talking to native speakers also makes me very nervous when I speak Spanish.
You never know who you’ll come across on NJ Transit.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Temperley London
I did it! I have officially survived my first day as an intern in the high-end fashion world. A friend of mine friend predicted that I would be like Whitney from The City; and another texted me asking how the internship was going and I told her I felt like LC on The Hills…minus the computer.
However glamorous that sounds, it did not start out well. First off, my train buddy Lindsey’s phone died in the middle of the night and she didn’t wake up in time to get to the city with me, so I start my journey alone and magazine-and-iPod-less. I meet someone from San Diego on the train (small world), and proceed to venture to the ACE subway and get off at Canal St. This, my friends, is where things go awry. I’m so turned around when I exit the subway station and have no sense of direction as to where to walk to. So I try to wander around and find W Broadway—ding! So I follow it about 4 or 5 blocks when I finally realize that I don’t recognize any of my surroundings. I resort to asking for directions and luckily the woman had a map and pointed me in the right direction.
Temperley London is located in SoHo among art galleries and stores like Kate Spade. The second floor showroom and offices are surrounded by 16 foot ceilings and huge photographs of models in the offices. The sales floor is beautifully lit and decorated with chandeliers, quirky-yet-chic art and racks upon racks upon racks of gorgeous clothes. Even the bathrooms are beyond glamorous with red walls, and an antique white sink and matching clawfoot tub. What kind of store has this? One that serves clients Moet & Chandon diamond encrusted champagne, that’s who.
I have my own desk and Virginia put me straight to work. I quickly became familiar with the design catalogue and how to check sample sale lists and pack away the samples. I did this for Spring/Summer 09, PreWinter 09, and Autumn/Winter 09, with a sneak peak at Cruise 2010. (It’s all gorgeous, by the way). I also found out that my boss (?) Virginia was used to be an intern there too, which is inspiring. It was a good day and I felt like I had made a good impression on everyone, at least I hope so.
Of course once I arrived at Penn Station to go back to South Orange, I got on the wrong train: for some reason the Dover train was an express, ugh. So after deboarding just in time, I sprint back to NJ Transit to learn that the next train back to SO was not for another half hour. After miserably waiting for that train knowing I would now be late to my night class, I arrived back in South Orange to find a lovely little parking ticket waiting on my car.
So while everything else in my day went wrong, I still had a great experience as a new intern—the only intern, might I add. Even though it was not the most exciting day ever, I’m just glad I didn’t have to start out with anything over my head. Virginia said that she would set me up my own e-mail account soon and that I should have a computer by Friday! Take that LC.
However glamorous that sounds, it did not start out well. First off, my train buddy Lindsey’s phone died in the middle of the night and she didn’t wake up in time to get to the city with me, so I start my journey alone and magazine-and-iPod-less. I meet someone from San Diego on the train (small world), and proceed to venture to the ACE subway and get off at Canal St. This, my friends, is where things go awry. I’m so turned around when I exit the subway station and have no sense of direction as to where to walk to. So I try to wander around and find W Broadway—ding! So I follow it about 4 or 5 blocks when I finally realize that I don’t recognize any of my surroundings. I resort to asking for directions and luckily the woman had a map and pointed me in the right direction.
Temperley London is located in SoHo among art galleries and stores like Kate Spade. The second floor showroom and offices are surrounded by 16 foot ceilings and huge photographs of models in the offices. The sales floor is beautifully lit and decorated with chandeliers, quirky-yet-chic art and racks upon racks upon racks of gorgeous clothes. Even the bathrooms are beyond glamorous with red walls, and an antique white sink and matching clawfoot tub. What kind of store has this? One that serves clients Moet & Chandon diamond encrusted champagne, that’s who.
I have my own desk and Virginia put me straight to work. I quickly became familiar with the design catalogue and how to check sample sale lists and pack away the samples. I did this for Spring/Summer 09, PreWinter 09, and Autumn/Winter 09, with a sneak peak at Cruise 2010. (It’s all gorgeous, by the way). I also found out that my boss (?) Virginia was used to be an intern there too, which is inspiring. It was a good day and I felt like I had made a good impression on everyone, at least I hope so.
Of course once I arrived at Penn Station to go back to South Orange, I got on the wrong train: for some reason the Dover train was an express, ugh. So after deboarding just in time, I sprint back to NJ Transit to learn that the next train back to SO was not for another half hour. After miserably waiting for that train knowing I would now be late to my night class, I arrived back in South Orange to find a lovely little parking ticket waiting on my car.
So while everything else in my day went wrong, I still had a great experience as a new intern—the only intern, might I add. Even though it was not the most exciting day ever, I’m just glad I didn’t have to start out with anything over my head. Virginia said that she would set me up my own e-mail account soon and that I should have a computer by Friday! Take that LC.
Monday, February 1, 2010
internships
So last Friday I had an interview at Temperley London, and I found out later that afternoon that I had gotten the internship! I was shopping at the mall at the time I found out and literally almost started to cry I was so happy. Not only was I ecstatic that I had gotten the position, it made me feel like when I wanted something I could actually accomplish it. It seems like things are starting to fall into place this semester.
On a much more somber note, Friday’s interview was overshadowed by the fact that our dear friend lost his mother earlier this week to cancer and her services were this weekend. On literally the two coldest days of the year, I drove into Manhattan to the wake on Friday night and the funeral Saturday morning. I had never driven in the city before and it was actually quite an exhilarating experience! I loved it.
Mrs. Bolin’s wake was lovely; surrounded by family and friends in an upscale funeral home on 81st and Madison. The funeral however was so incredibly sad—it’s so hard to see one of your good friends lose something so dear to them. It was only a matter of weeks ago that I was at another friend’s father’s funeral; he had also lost his battle with cancer. Everyone said their farewells to Patricia Bolin in a pretty little church on 89th and Madison, and afterward we went next door for the reception on the Bolin’s apartment building rooftop—which had an incredibly beautiful view of Manhattan. The reception quickly turned into a serious party; Mrs. Bolin’s iPod was blasting Queen and I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many Corona bottles in one corner in my life. I had the opportunity to get to know the Bolin family better and they are all as equally friendly and hilarious and full of life as their son. Mr. Bolin is one of the most generous and loving characters you can ever hope to meet. It is hard to see a family like the Bolins lose someone so special. My sincerest condolences go out to the Bolin family.
On a much more somber note, Friday’s interview was overshadowed by the fact that our dear friend lost his mother earlier this week to cancer and her services were this weekend. On literally the two coldest days of the year, I drove into Manhattan to the wake on Friday night and the funeral Saturday morning. I had never driven in the city before and it was actually quite an exhilarating experience! I loved it.
Mrs. Bolin’s wake was lovely; surrounded by family and friends in an upscale funeral home on 81st and Madison. The funeral however was so incredibly sad—it’s so hard to see one of your good friends lose something so dear to them. It was only a matter of weeks ago that I was at another friend’s father’s funeral; he had also lost his battle with cancer. Everyone said their farewells to Patricia Bolin in a pretty little church on 89th and Madison, and afterward we went next door for the reception on the Bolin’s apartment building rooftop—which had an incredibly beautiful view of Manhattan. The reception quickly turned into a serious party; Mrs. Bolin’s iPod was blasting Queen and I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many Corona bottles in one corner in my life. I had the opportunity to get to know the Bolin family better and they are all as equally friendly and hilarious and full of life as their son. Mr. Bolin is one of the most generous and loving characters you can ever hope to meet. It is hard to see a family like the Bolins lose someone so special. My sincerest condolences go out to the Bolin family.
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