Last week I was given an intern as an assistant. Production is coming up and, what with there only being me, Neil and Rick as the only members of staff and with the label rapidly growing, production has been handed over to me to juggle with PR. Holly is pretty with a type of femininity rarely found in this era. She watched me with her grey-blue eyes as I talked her through things. She was in her late twenties, having graduated St. Martins. (I am nineteen with mediocre A-levels and a year long Art foundation diploma.)When I had finished explaining shipping it was almost the end of the day. I asked her if she had any questions. 'Do you ever eat anything?' She asked raising her eyebrows, 'I've been here five days and all I've seen you do is drink constant cups of peppermint tea. The only thing I've seen you eat is a small punnet of strawberries last Friday.' I frowned, this was not a question about production or shipping. I wanted to say; 'Well, Holly. No, I don't really eat that much seeing as my small pay check (very small considering everything I do for this company) is spent on my extortionate rent, because for some reason I have found myself living with two very rich people in an apartment that really is very much too posh for me. Secondly, I don't eat much because I am very neurotic about my weight, I am the fit model for this season and if I get fat the collection is fucked.' But instead I mumbled, 'I eat a huge breakfast and dinner'.
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