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Tears in the toilets and croissants in the black cab: my intern experience - Intern Wardrobe

Tears in the toilets and croissants in the black cab: my intern experience
Elle Shoel

Last summer, I interned at Ryan Lo studio: designing show invites, creating Japanese packaging inspired prints for t-shirts, running round Soho for buttonhole.

The day before the show, I was sitting on the floor with a microwave meal tying knitted tulle into a fantastical cape, sewing pink crystallised buttons onto coats at 4am, pattern cutting from all kinds of incredible fabrics, learning the lines from the SATC where Carrie falls on the catwalk, getting changed at 8am after not sleeping to head straight to the show, working with the incredibly talented Robbie Spencer & Coline Bach styling the show, choosing furry ears and Converse colours, embroidering lurex flowers, hand stitching green bows to gathered skirts, measuring 7cm between pineapple-covered lace embellishments, and most of all experiencing the unadulterated excitement of an aspiring designer’s first time at London Fashion Week.

At 5am proper conversation had been replaced with Whitney Houston and Carrie Bradshaw quotes.

Yes, there were tears in the toilets and there definitely was a McDonald’s on the bus (or about a million takeaways), and there was a 31-hour shift with a total of 0 hours sleep, and opened post without permission, and litter fines, and endless stress. But, as I said, there were also croissants in the taxi to the Topshop show space, with the wonderfully exciting Lara Jensen and beautiful Coline Bach. And playing what felt like dress up in a candy box wardrobe with the models before they went on, and also Ryan’s exhausted efforts to stay awake: “Tell me something OFFENSIVE!” at 5am (proper conversation had been replaced with Whitney Houston and bitchy Carrie Bradshaw quotes). Ryan’s designs, Robbie’s styling and the show were something special and I was so grateful to be a part of it.


When we finally got there, past the borrowed toothbrushes and exasperated taxi drivers, the show can only be described as sensational. Sound tracked by Whitney and finishing on the very song Carrie trips during in her debut runway performance, it was otherworldly; with the mesmerising Chloe Nørgaard opening in a cream 3D floral lace skirt and a beautiful cacophony of Sylvanian family girls in candy colours powering down the runway after her. I say ‘powering’ deliberately; while the clothes were undeniably sugar syrup sweet, they were also unapologetically feminine and in that gained an enormous amount of what can only be described as girl power. In the best way. Because the undiluted cuteness ceased for nobody, the adorable girls were, almost paradoxically, heroines in their own storyline. As ever, wonderfully Bridget Jones. I was surely not the only one entranced – or maybe more enchanted?

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