Working in Fashion

How to make it without the map they forgot to give you.

Why I started Working in Fashion

I didn’t just “end up” in fashion. I clawed my way in.

I applied to FIT twice. The first time, I didn’t get in. My GPA wasn’t high enough, so I took time off, raised it, and came back. The second time, I made it in. I took out loans. I worked full-time while going to school full-time. Bartending shifts at night, sewing in studio classes in the morning, crashing somewhere in between. No sleep, no weekends, but somehow I kept going.

But what no one told me — what they don’t advertise on those shiny school brochures — is that working full-time while in fashion school doesn’t just drain you. It cuts into your chance to intern, to network, to “meet the right people.” The people who glide into internships because they didn’t have to work nights. The people who, post-pandemic, had those connections already locked down when everything fell apart.

I didn’t have that. Post-grad hit, and it was like standing at a party where everyone already knows each other and you’re invisible. Fashion is brutal like that.

I almost quit more than once. There were times I thought maybe I wasn’t cut out for this — maybe I’d missed my shot. But deep down, I knew the problem wasn’t me. The problem was no one tells you how this industry actually works. Fashion school taught me how to drape, sew, sketch. But it didn’t teach me how to pitch myself, how to get in the room, how to build a network from nothing. That was the gap. That’s what was missing.

That’s why I started Blossom Nite. I didn’t just want to “network.” I wanted to know people in fashion — actually know them. Not in a superficial way, not in a who-do-you-know-to-get-something way, but to build a community that wasn’t just built on privilege and gatekeeping. And once I started doing that, I fell down the rabbit hole.

Because here’s what I learned fast: this industry is crazy. It’s disorganized, stuck in the past, still running on paper when everything else is digital. The egos are toxic. The bosses are unhinged. And somehow — despite all that — fashion doesn’t stop. The machine keeps running.

I also learned something else. The people who make it aren’t always the most talented — they’re the ones who show up, again and again. They’re the ones who share resources, not hoard them. They’re the ones who figure out their own way in, when the traditional routes shut them out. That’s what Blossom Nite showed me. That’s the real industry.

If you’re in New York and you’re tired of trying to break in alone, come to Blossom Nite. It’s the meet-up I started to make those real connections happen — not just for me, but for anyone who’s building from scratch. It’s open, it’s honest, and it’s built for people like us.

So that’s why I’m writing Working in Fashion here. To organize the chaos. To make a map for anyone who’s trying to get into this space without losing their mind. I want to share what I’ve learned, so you don’t have to waste years trying to figure out things that no one tells you.

This is for the ones who are starting from scratch, like I did. You can expect real talk here — no fluff, no gatekeeping, no sugarcoating. Just the stories, resources, tools, and lessons I wish someone handed me back then.

Because if I can make it even a little easier for someone else to get started — without the rabbit holes, without the dead ends — then all of this is worth it.