Despite all of its blemishes, misdeeds and shadiness, the fashion industry still draws in cohort after cohort of hopefuls. After all, the desire to be near beauty is timeless and universal. Ten years have passed since I got into fashion in 2010. Although it feels like just the other day I was Googling ‘how to get into fashion’ from my NHS office where I worked in a diagnostic team but spent way too much time trolling fashion Tumblrs, I am now usually being asked it. In lieu of the rushed answers I’ve been giving on LinkedIn, I’ve decided to put together a realistic, honest as balls, and somewhat counterintuitive list of how to get into fashion, and more importantly, survive and thrive in it.

1. Network Your Ass Off

First off, you have to actively make connections. If you’re not the type to go up to random strangers, be fun, able to connect, and organically sell yourself while you’re at it, then get over that. “It’s not what you know, it’s who you know”, doesn’t mean you rely on family friends or your friends’ friends. I didn’t know a single soul when I moved to London, let alone in the fashion industry, but I went to events, spoke to editors, gave out writing samples, and was genuinely enthusiastic about it all.

Everything changed when an editor from one event remembered me, and emailed me about an internship at Christian Louboutin that she thought I might be interested in, which is how I got my foot in the door. Of course, there is an optimal way to approach. Don’t go up to people and launch into a long-winded spiel. Assume they have 10 seconds. “Hi, I’m Christine, I want to get into fashion journalism, and I would love if you had a read of my work. Here it is.” Hand them an envelope, or, ask for their email and send it that way - although I find that no editor resists good stationery. Avoid dropping irrelevant things no one is interested in: where you’re from, where you went to school and your favorite brands. Your grasp of fashion should be visually obvious.

Online networking works the same way: write emails and introduce yourself, but follow the rules above and be succinct, getting right into relevant information, stating your purpose and linking to examples so no one has to reread your long email three times still dumbfounded by what you actually want.

2. Details yo.

Andy struggled to discern minor differences, including the distinction between blue and cerulean in a later scene. Her fate was sealed.

OK, so you got your foot in the door and landed your first internship or job. I always imagined that everyone in fashion would naturally be detail obsessed, but in those early years, it amazed me how often this proved not to be the case. Once I started at Christian Louboutin, where part of the interns’ job was to send and receive press samples, I noticed that the box of dust bags for the shoes was full of wrinkled dust bags. I didn’t think it spoke well of the brand for publications like Vogue and Harper’s Bazaar to receive wrinkled dust bags, so took to straightening them out and folding them neatly in half. Fine, one might argue that the recipient of those dust bags is a stressed-out fashion assistant who might not notice as she’s rushing to prep for the shoot, but on some level, these things are perceived. I wanted to be part of the dynamic which creates the perception of “wow, Louboutin’s stuff always arrives immaculate”. The other interns rolled their eyes at my dust-bag folding, but my manager noticed, and recommended me to other houses when the internship ended. In fact, it was this same manager’s referral that led to my career-defining role.

3. Have Your Own Platform

Want to be a fashion journalist? Have writing samples at the ready as well as an online portfolio.

In the digital age, where self-publishing is the norm, the age of Wordpress, Squarespace, Instagram, Twitter, and hundreds of other platforms catering to every artistic niche, you have no excuse not to have a platform to showcase yourself. It’s surprisingly often that applicants to social media internships express a love of social media, but have an abandoned IG account with 10 posts, or say they wan’t to get into fashion journalism, but haven’t created a blog or writing platform. It takes 10 minutes to set up a Squarespace or an Instagram. Don’t have time? No one has time, but time is still created when something matters. Your digital presence matters greatly. Especially for those coming from a non-fashion background, but want to demonstrate credibility and show an interest in and grasp of the industry. Learn to self-promote.

But please show actual examples of your work and never revert to statements like “I grew up in Italy/France surrounded by luxury fashion from a young age.” I grew up in an apartment building in downtown Toronto. No one cares. Furthermore, statements like these demonstrate an elitist view of the fashion industry that the new guard is working to eradicate.

4. Find Your Niche

Are you a writer? A stylist? More of a PR person? Work to figure out the one thing you do better than anything else.

Once you’ve made some connections, or if you’re just cold-messaging fashion people on LinkedIn, never say that you “want to get into fashion”, but aren’t sure what area. They can’t help you. No one can figure this out for you but you. In fact, the busy people you are writing to read this message quite dumbstruck, and feel like you don’t appreciate their time. The nice ones will reply with the obvious “take some time and get some experiences under your belt and figure it out”, but you’ve already lost some credibility, and they may not take your next message seriously. When writing editors, brands, PRs, anyone in the hierarchy, write with a clear, specific, request they can actually help you with. “I’d like to gain PR experience, are you taking on any interns? I’m available Monday to Wednesday”. Even if you aren’t sure PR is for you, or you might want to go to design school, save the more nuanced reflections for your friends.

5. Dress the Part

People subconsciously assess others based on what they’re wearing, mannerisms, grooming, and speech.

You can’t want to work in fashion and ignore this one. It’s a scientific fact that everyone assesses others based on visual cues, it’s just how the brain works. But fashion industry people are specifically sensitive to aesthetic. We’ll know whether you really ‘get’ fashion and will work smart and hard, or whether you’re in it for the glorification-through-association, meaning you like the idea of working in fashion, and think working in fashion will make you sound cooler to those you meet. (These hopefuls usually show up with a VIP-room bandage dress and platform heels look in the middle of winter.)

A strong personal style is always good, and a simple monochromatic outfit always works, there’s absolutely no need to load up on expensive brands. We’ll subconsciously pick up on details; grooming in particular. It’s crazy that it has to be said, but neat nails and clean hair goes a long way.

5. Two Words: Creative Visualization

If trips and staying at fancy hotels motivates you, so be it.

Now we’ve covered the basics, let’s look at what happens when it gets tough, because it does. I won’t mince words, working in fashion, at least for the first few years, is badly paid and full of challenging personalities (some are good people under immense pressure, some are not, some have tremendous ego struggles). If you’re one of the lucky ones , you may end up working at a great place, but still might be confused as to your end goal. Enter creative visualization, which is a term that comes from the book of the same name by spiritual writer Shakti Gawain. I found this title at the Daunt’s Books in Marylebone (easily my favorite bookshop in London), early into my fashion career. The book stresses how crucial strongly visualizing the things you want is manifesting them. I didn’t think spirituality was popular among other fashion folk, and was happily shocked when I read that Net-a-Porter founder Natalie Massenet was also a fan of the same book. She told Business of Fashion: “Rather than imagining Net-a-Porter, I imagined that I would be involved in a media business. It was a big white space, with lots of light and lots of young people walking around, working, smiling.” Indeed, the NAP HQ offices in Shepherd’s Bush are a beautiful big white space.

6. Lean In…to Fear

You will feel intimated often. Get used to it.

There’s a common misconception that because fear feels bad, that fear is bad and is to be avoided. Make no mistake, fear is key. The industry is intimidating, there are high highs and low lows, there can be harsh reactions about your work, and the sheer fact that you’re so emotionally invested in what you’re doing makes everything feel very scary. Like the famous self-help book and my mentor Carmen Busquets always say “feel the fear and do it anyway”. If you’re not doing things that scare you, you aren’t growing, you aren’t taking risks, and you won’t be getting them rewards.

8. Let Yourself Be Used

There’s a moment that stands out in my mind. When I was at my career-defining role, I was getting paid £18,000 a year, just above minimum wage, working almost 7 days a week, and just putting in sheer blood, sweat and tears into the job. I remember my mother saying to me, “They’re using you, Anabel”. It was a patronizing “wake up” kind of tone, which made me feel terrible because of course, I really believed that this draining undertaking I had committed to would pay off. That my passion would pay off. But she challenged that, and implied that it would not, that the owners of the business were playing me for a fool and taking me for a ride.

The role very much paid-off down the line in ways I had never dreamed of, but the notion that I was being used felt so bad that at the time, it made me want to quit, run away and get a “normal” desk job somewhere. I am so glad I trusted my gut that my energy was not being wasted. It never is, even if it’s not clear how something will pay off, follow the passion. Don’t worry about “how”. Focus on why. My “why” was that I thought that I could one day introduce a deeper and more meaningful way of looking at fashion.

9. Take Big Scary Risks Constantly

When I began my one-month unpaid internship at Christian Louboutin, with no clue of what I could do after, or how I would make money to live, I had quit my secure £24,000 a year job at the NHS in London, where I had benefits and lots of room for promotion. My rent was £700 a month, I had no family here, no safety net and the idea of quitting a paid full-time job to do that internship made no sense at all. It was a huge risk, but it was necessary. Most big moves are, there is just no other way around it. Moving to a city like New York, Paris or London, working in a creative industry where so few people make it, is a risk. On a smaller scale, sending your work to editors or starting your own brand is also a risk. Asking for a raise is a risk. Being assertive at work is a risk (will they perceive this as pushy and bitchy or will it get me higher up the ladder?). This is all obvious, but in reality, many of us sit on these kinds of risky moves for years, before we finally make them and waste lots and lots of time. Just get into the habit of leaning into fear and taking constant risk.

“Even if it’s not clear how something will pay off, follow the passion. Don’t worry about how. Focus on why.”

10. Do Whatever It Takes

There were lots of moments in my career where I’ve been like “how the F did I get here?” I’ll tell you about one. After the Christian Louboutin internship ended, I needed to pay the bills until my next job came along, and had no choice but to get a fashion retail job as things had become urgent. And, the job was easy, I still got to work with clothes, and the schedule was flexible enough which meant I could work on weekends, so I could do more editorial interning on set days in the week.

My job was in a luxury goods consignment shop in Chelsea, where lots of immaculately dresses women came in to unload last season’s barely touched clothes and pick up something new. It wasn’t the worst job I could have gotten, but the bitter pill I had to swallow was that not long ago, I was in Toronto with plans to go to grad school for clinical psychology in Columbia in New York, publishing papers in academic journals and working in a slick clinic, and now, for fashion, here I was mopping a shop floor in shop (one of our opening duties).

I’ll never forget a fellow expat lady from Boston who came in one weekend. At first, she seemed friendly, recognized my North American accent, and we got chatting. I was telling her about my psychology background and why I came to London, and she suddenly haughtily said “My, and here you are, mopping on a Saturday”. I choked on that bitter pill. I’ll never know if she said to intentionally be mean, but it definitely made me question if I loved fashion so much that I was willing to feel like, for that moment, that I had thrown my life away.

Mopping sucks and made me question how far I was willing to go to work in fashion, but it still felt right on some level, and that this was part of the path. I have no regrets. The “why” of what I was doing always guided me, and I am on track for the journey creating something new that will help the world perceive the role of clothing differently. Even Andy got her referral from Miranda for New York Magazine.