A Little More ‘Devil Wears Prada,’ a Little Less Reality
Before I even came to Toronto–with my mind totally made up on being a journalist, like a stylish, sans-bangs Lois Lane–I thought that once I finally made the big move, and had spent the decidedly acceptable time in school, that my professional life would play out a little bit more like Anne Hathaway’s in The Devil Wears Prada. Although, I think I would have been a little more fashion-minded from the get-go, and would probably be besties with Emily Blunt’s character–come on, is she not a lovable bitch? Oh, and I wouldn’t have eventually ditched the job “a million girls would die for” for some crummy gig at a stuffy newspaper . . . haha I’m joking, kind of (sorry for just basically blowing the whole story, if you haven’t seen the movie).
Anyway, I pictured myself at FLARE, or ELLE Canada, making frantic Starbucks runs, while simultaneously getting stared down by bitchy designer-clad “clackers,” while my already small frame lessened even more just from the sheer stress of it all. Then some dashing, spectacled gay man would take me under his wing, and sneakily slip me some Chanel.
But, as you may have guessed, things didn’t really pan out like they did for Anne’s Andrea Sachs on the big screen (or in Lauren Weisberger’s book, for that matter). Shocking, right?
Even pathetic, bottom of the totem pole jobs like the one that apparently fell into our heroine Andrea’s lap are scarce, and the best I have to look forward to is possibly landing some horribly boring spot at a financial mag (blech), or something. Either that, or move somewhere like Nunavut and report on, I don’t know, frost bite?
Well, whatever, the point is, journalism is a hard, hard field to break into, and all those seemingly glamorous jobs require a lot of ladder climbing and crazy work. But I don’t care. I’m going to keep trying, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll be fetching coffee for Lisa Tant in a few years. A girl can dream, right?