In Fashion Part 36

In creative businesses you'll know right away if things are working for you. Your review happens every morning at 9 a.m. when you log in to your computer.

You are occasionally thrown a bone. Example: You're asked to attend a business lunch or go on a press trip for the company.

Bosses or managers include you on e-mails or sometimes drive by your work s.p.a.ce to say h.e.l.lo or thank you for a job well done.

You sometimes get invited to extra meetings at the office.

You sometimes get invited to business social events.

You get, and can easily articulate, your company's basic mission, and you understand your role in helping to fulfill that mission.

Yes, people talk about "emotional" intelligence (fashion people tend to have loads of it), but perhaps we all should learn to develop our "work" intelligence. That's our internal meter on how well you are fitting in with the culture of the place. Do things "click" for you there? Or is everything a huge effort? Are you swimming against the current? If you sense that you are not fitting in, you should start looking for another job. That day.

Listen to your own instincts. Are you working with people you admire and want to learn from? Are people generally happy in your office? Is your boss happy with you? Deep, deep down, are you happy?

FASHIONISTA FINISHES: TEN GOOD WAYS TO GET FIRED.

Ever wondered what you need to do to get yourself auf wiedersehen'ed from a job it took you months to score? Depending on your work environment, any combination of these infractions can lead you down that path. Most of this is common sense, but here you have it.

Not being punctual. All creative work functions on serious deadlines. Taking deadlines lightly isn't cool, even if it's NOT a life or death situation. If your boss asks for a letter by Friday, give it to her on Thursday so you can have it to her mistake free Friday morning. Regardless of whether you believe your task is important or that it will significantly change another's life, do it when it's asked for. If your boss can trust you to get little stuff done on time, she'll eventually trust you to do more important work, like attending a press conference she cannot make or a film screening. The Real Deal won't come to you unless you prove yourself on getting the cappuccino order right. Is that why you went to college? No. But that doesn't matter anymore. This is real life.

Calling in sick on an occasional Monday or Friday, then showing up with a gorgeous tan from your weekend in Miami.

Working shorter hours than your boss. Come in late and leave early.

Looking and acting bored. Show att.i.tude. Roll your eyes. Play solitaire on the computer.

Refusing to do something someone kindly requests of you, stating that it's not part of your job.

Lying, cheating, and/or stealing. Ideas. Money. Pens. Lipstick. Yogurt from the communal refrigerator. Next season's shoes. From others. From the supply closet. From the fashion or beauty closet. From anyone.

Writing and sending personal text messages and e-mails chronically during working hours. Chatting on your cell phone. Don't kid yourself: Your boss will know. Your colleagues will know. Some companies actually monitor employees' electronic communications so your boss's boss's boss will know.

Gossiping. Talking disparagingly about someone's homemade dress. Imitating the receptionist's Brooklyn accent. Pondering the apparent lack of s.e.xual activity in the lives of your superiors. Mentally taking apart their outfits as mundane or trying too hard. Sure, these activities can break the tension in a day. Give you something to laugh about. And, indirectly, they can make you feel superior. It's always harder in life to be generous. Kind. Good. To look for the best in everyone. Smile at people. But ultimately, if you spread a little kindness, you will live a longer and healthier life, have kind and loving children, and find peace and happiness. (On the appropriate sharing of confidential information.) Being miserable to colleagues in an effort to get ahead. Say disparaging things about coworkers to higher-ups. Chitchatting with someone from the New York Post or Women's Wear Daily about a person on the staff you don't like. Grounds for swift and immediate firing. Loyalty is everything in business. Even if you don't feel as though you belong right away, act discreetly because you cannot trust others to do the same. Be someone who can be trusted. This is not a zero-sum game: Your success is not predicated on the failure of someone else. In fact, if you bond together with other bright, hard-working a.s.sistants, chances are you'll all look better and all help each other career-wise down the road.

Letting the daily buzz overwhelm you, so you never explore what your real job could be. There's the 75 million phone calls, thousands of e-mails, and piles of unopened mail. All of those things make up the flurry of everyday life, but it's unlikely that the flurry is the sum and substance of your Real Job. Don't let that adrenaline of the daily buzz blind you to the bigger picture of your role. So what is your bigger mission, anyhow? If an intern can do your job, you don't deserve the job. Details and mania can take over anyone's life. Find ways to get the little important stuff done more efficiently so that you can do more of the "senior" thinking. Find ways to make the department run more smoothly, so you'll have time to report or write or go on a photo shoot or think up some new approaches to this page or ad or segment that you don't like.

P.S. s.e.x and drugs are both activities that would seemingly get you fired. It's strange that I've never heard of anyone in a creative business getting fired for doing drugs, though I'm sure lots of people probably engage in some forms of illegal substance abuse. Suggestive, or in any way inappropriate or s.e.xually loaded, language (mostly from straight guys to straight women) apparently gets you fired and sued faster than you can say "ciao."

Fashionista Detox: Fifty-Three Ways to Stop Acting Like a Fashion

You play the role. You look the part. You act the part. You walk the walk, albeit teetering above the rest of your world in your four-inch-high Saint Laurent Tribute patent sling backs. Your face is concealed behind your hefty black Tom Ford Marcella sungla.s.ses. You're slinging the 36-centimeter white Balenciaga python bag, the sample to the model that doesn't go into production for at least four months. You aren't supposed to be friendly or kind or caring when you're dressed to kill, for heaven's sake. Or are you?

I believe the most dazzling fashionistas on earth can actually play many roles at the same time: style queen, compa.s.sionate mother, supportive wife, listening friend, loving sister, caring neighbor, loyal citizen, fair boss, cool colleague, serene yogini, helpful stranger. Sometimes it's disarming to others if you behave in a normal, courteous way when you are dressed as if you have just walked out of the pages of a magazine. Sadly, this is a challenge for most fashionistas. When dressed for fashion combat, not many fashionistas can find it in themselves to smile and say good morning on the elevator, make small talk at the doughnut cart, inquire about how the receptionist's husband is feeling after his surgery. Nevertheless, it's something to aspire to. Here are some pointers for when you find yourself at an elevation so high that there's no oxygen left in the air to feel human.

Spend a few days with your parents, siblings, nieces, and nephews. Offer to help them with ch.o.r.es or errands, drive them around town, or do them little favors.

Adopt a stray or rescued pet from the pound during your summer or year-end holiday. Avoid hiring a trainer so that you will have primary responsibility for your new pet, at least until show season. Refrain from choosing cliche fashionista names like "Coco," "Karl," "Helmut," "Chloe," "Twiggy," "Marc."

Don't wear black for a month.

Commit to a fashion blackout holiday: no magazines, no WWD, no shopping, no cities. Pack only exercise clothes, flip-flops, and sneakers. No labels. For best results, explore a visit to an ashram that requires a vow of silence or a spa that provides guests with uniforms.

Read a section of the Sunday newspaper you usually skip.

Volunteer at a soup kitchen. Wear flats. Make eye contact. Smile (and mean it).

Do a weekend seminar in yoga or TM without your fashionista posse.

Offer to tutor a kid in reading or math at a nearby school. Don't be late. Don't reschedule.

Make a date with your best pal from high school or grade school (a.s.suming he or she does not carry any of your career traits). Try to focus at least half of the conversation on your friend's life.

Become a Big Brother or Big Sister, and follow through on your obligations.

Join the Peace Corps. No, really. Go to Africa. For two years.

Check in on an elderly neighbor. Offer to run errands for him or her. Bring yellow tulips.

Let yourself eat a doughnut, a slice of pizza, or some ice cream once in a while.

Light a candle before you go to sleep at night, keeping it safely away from Pratesi bed linens and Scalamandre curtains. Practice deep breathing. Imagine that you are inhaling peace and love, exhaling anger and stress.

Enroll in a cla.s.s for a language you've always wanted to learn. Practice with tapes as you drive and walk around. The more obscure (Icelandic? Swahili? Finnish?), the better.

Make your own coffee one morning.

Make your own lunch and bring it to work in a brown paper sack. Make one for your a.s.sistant too.

Pitch a tent and sleep inside it. Even if it's in the middle of your living room.

Set up a badminton net in your apartment. Organize tournaments among friends.

Schedule a monthly Scrabble date with friends.

Plan a winter weekend visit to an ice hotel. (Not just a James Bond prop, they exist both in Sweden and Switzerland.) Join a bridge club.

Don't buy, borrow, or in any other way acquire any new personal effects for one month.

Stop Twittering and FBing for forty-eight hours.

Read (or reread) Madame Bovary.

Read a few pages of Proust.

Don't say "genius," "heaven," or "brilliant" for a week.

Plant a tree, a bush, a flower, or, at least, some lavender.

Declare an i'm not so vain day. Avoid mirrors and makeup for twenty-four hours. Do physical exercise (a walk, run, spin cla.s.s, swim, fencing, ballet, Pilates, boxing) before you go to work.

See an exhibit at a museum you've never entered. Buy the headphones to help you focus. Be in the moment.

Do a load of wash on your own.

Iron a favorite top. (Where is your iron?) Connect with a teacher, professor, or mentor who has inspired you, and let him or her know it.

Stop sending work e-mails after hours and on weekends.

Don't look at your wireless device during meetings, lunch, or dinner.

Suspend iPhone or BlackBerry activity for a twenty-four-hour stretch on weekends.

Get outside! Cancel your fashionista vacation to Capri. Schedule an adventure bike trip or hiking trek to Montana. (See www.backroads.com.) Take a bath.

Offer to babysit for a friend. Or, if that's too scary, offer to visit the baby.

Go to the zoo.

Take a figure drawing cla.s.s at an art school.

Limit yourself to two cappuccinos per day.

Finish a book.

Go to the post office to stand in line to buy stamps.

Go sit quietly for a few minutes in a mosque, church, or synagogue.

Ride a bicycle for transportation.

Let your critical eye take a nap: Try to go for eight hours without thinking or saying anything negative about other people's clothes or shoes.

Buy a MetroCard. Take the subway to work.

Take up knitting. Craft dramatically long striped scarves (choose signature colors like lilac and brown) for all your fashionista BFFs at Christmas.

Take the interns to lunch. Listen to their ideas on improving stuff in the office. Ask them what they most want to do professionally, and give them your thoughts on next steps.

Grow good karma. Think positive thoughts about your archenemy. Find an excuse to call someone with whom you have had an awkward relationship, and clear the air. Buy coffee for the stranger behind you in line.

Be decisive. Instead of letting invitations or e-mails pile up, respond immediately.

Pick up your own phone when it rings. It's so much easier and more human to deal with stuff in the here and now. Say h.e.l.lo! not What?

end.