THE BRUTAL WORLD OF FASHION – IN THE EYES OF LILY BROOKS

Lily Brooks, a small-town girl fresh out of college, lands the job a million girls would die for. Hired as an assistant to Claudia Wozniaki, the high profile, fabulously successful editor of Showstopper magazine, Lily finds herself in an office that shouts Armani, Versace at every turn, a world populated by impossibly thin, heart wrenching stylish women and beautiful men clad in fine ribbed turtlenecks and tight leather pants that show their life long dedication to their ilk. But with breathtaking ease of a tigress, Claudia can turn each and every one of these hip sophisticates into a scared, whimpering child.

To her great disappointment Lily found, working with Claudia, over the years, that she was a Boss, a Devil from Hell. She had known first-hand the deep, dark, satanic view of life at the top only read by commoners in Cosmopolitan and discussed in the trendiest cocktail parties. 

My eyes rolled when I was asked by the Boss to send the latest not-yet-in-stores Harry Potter issue to Claudia’s children in Paris by private jet:

Now, more than ever, Lily finds herself wondering why stress plays such a key role in the fashion industry. It’s a wickedly fun, soulful, and creative field, so why do most people in it seem to be on the brink of a breakdown half the time? The classical definition of stress is: The perceived or actual physical, psychological, or social sensation you feel when you are unable to bridge the gap between expectation and ability. It seems to me that the fashion industry places too much emphasis on expectation and results - the show (both literally and metaphorically) - without valuing the journey it takes to get to the top. In 2015, several supremely talented designers stepped down from powerful brands due to intense workload and pressure. Raf Simmons decided to leave Dior; Alexander Wang, Balenciaga; and Albert Elbaz; Lanvin.

When the big players are questioning the manageability of their workload, where is the hope for the rest of us? 

“It’s almost impossible to say, oh well, it’s just a job, because the lines between your work and you are so blurred.”

There is this belief that when you work in such a desirable industry, there’s a queue of people lining up to snatch your job if you’re not willing to do it. So, you’ve got to work harder, push further, achieve more each season, and be the absolute best that you can be. It’s also an industry that’s incredibly under-resourced, where designers work every hour of the day, and then some, before their shows (five months' work condensed into approximately 11 minutes), presenting their collections - but really, themselves - to the outside world.

As it’s such a personal thing when critics slam your work, or your editors come down on you, or your boss says it’s not quite right, it’s almost impossible to say, oh well, it’s just a job, because the lines between your work and you are so blurred. I’ve worked at the same company for over five years and a busy workload is all I’ve ever known. I’ve enjoyed the obstacles and thrived on the stress, but that changed last March, after a vacation to New York. I’d just got engaged and finished an incredibly busy period at work (the notorious November to March stretch); life was nonstop,

                                                 and one day my back came out in a rash.

The rash looked like chicken pox and, by the next day, spread to my arms, scalp, and tummy, drying into scaly patches that a dermatologist later identified as psoriasis triggered from a severe reaction to stress.

“I've heard horror stories of fashion publicists throwing up from stress in the morning before going to work, have friends whose periods have ceased, whose hair falls out in clumps, all in the name of their careers.”

I remember feeling shocked, because I’d always managed my stress. So why was my body making such a blatant protest now? I’d heard of stress manifesting itself in physical symptoms — horror stories of fashion publicists throwing up in the morning from stress before going to work, friends whose periods have ceased, whose hair falls out in clumps, all in the name of their careers.

But I had always seen myself as someone who was 100% in control. I spoke to my friends in the industry about their experiences and whether they feel a burnout is inevitable.

In October 2007, after 15 years of working in the fashion industry, I walked away from my job, got on a plane, and went to the other side of the world. I was heading up the fashion division of a successful PR agency and had the trappings of a successful life. But most of the time, I just wanted to cry. I was tired.

 I had no energy; I was terrible company.

But in hindsight, walking away was the best thing I did. I felt like I needed to have as much physical distance as possible from my normal life to be able to think properly, put things into perspective, and get the fashion world out of my system.

I came back to London with a completely different perspective: Nothing is ever as important as one's health and peace of mind, and that if I don't enjoy doing something then I should walk away from it, I am not obliged to make myself unhappy to facilitate someone else's ideas or wishes.

History of Haute Couture.

Fuelled by France’s empirical rule and obsession with exoticism, fashion looked further afield for inspiration in the early 20th century. Enter Paul Poiret, the celebrated designer who spun Eastern influences into fantastical haute-couture creations. Gone were austere restrictions of post-revolution France; lavish fashion was à la mode once more as art nouveau swept across Europe.

Freeing women of organ-crushing corsetry, Poiret introduced billowing kimonos, capacious harem pants and elaborately decorated turbans and sultana skirts, cementing his reputation as the King of Fashion.

The Competition. It was 1973, along with four other French superstars – Hubert de Givenchy, Pierre Cardin, Emanuel Ungaro and Marc Bohan of Christian Dior – the iconic Yves Saint Laurent was about to have his reign rivalled by five American designers in the fashion competition of the century.

Oscar de la Renta, Bill Blass, Anne Klein, Halston and Stephen Burrows arrived at Versailles with an entourage including Liza Minnelli, Broadway dancers and 36 models (10 of whom were Black, in unprecedented diversity).

The successful advertise. Riding piggyback on The Battle of Versailles, the brainchild of PR whizz Eleanor Lambert, was designed to fund the restoration of the namesake palace; it had celebrities and high society in a tailspin to grab tickets. The dynamism of the American designers and their coterie (namely high-energy Black models such as Pat Cleveland) forced France to relinquish its crown, at least temporarily. Fashion was changing rapidly !!

After the French Revolution, fashion trends changed dramatically. Revulsed by the opulence of royalty, an era of anti-fashion followed the French Revolution; society adopted a working-class uniform of aprons, clogs and mobcaps. The government drew influence from outside of France, and fashion turned towards flowing gowns that mirrored society’s fascination with egalitarianism.

The cockade (a rosette of ribbons first worn by free men in ancient Greece) became the enduring symbol of the revolution, appearing on everything from shoes to hats. However, society’s rebuttal of opulent fashion would turn out to be a trend itself – and one that would be overtaken.

Dear Reader: I have put forward a glimpse of the torrid, fast paced fashion industry, its ecstasies and the rampant heartbreaks. Written in first person, Lily Brooks has been perceived to be working with someone like Anna Wintour, the editor-in-chief of Vogue. This article is conceptualised on Lily’s experiences working with Anna and the vagaries, burnouts that engulf the fashion world.

And did Anna Wintour wear Prada ?

Disclaimer: The names Lily Brooks and Claudia Wozniaki are imaginary and do not hold any resemblance to any person(s) dead or alive.