Reel life.

Reel life.
feeling: reflective

When I started blogging about my internship at -insert name of magazine-, many of my chick-lit reading friends commented on how I reminded them of the protagonist in The Devil Wears Prada. I have thus awaited with bated breath to watch my life reflected in the movie. Well, it kinda did.

Similarity of sucky job scopes (very much involving juggling numerous shopping bags) aside, I could truly relate to how lost she felt in the world of fashion. I don't lust after labels, nor do I roll the names of fashion designers off my tongue. And I definitely am not one to go around blowing air kisses and going "muah muah". I spent my life harbouring an ideal which just didn't turn out the way I'd expected it to be. Sheer naivety.

I too felt the pressure of image, and I started toying with the idea of buying from the higher-end labels. So shallow; so not me; but oh so true. And then of course.. there was the thing about morphing into someone I didn't know anymore. I didn't hang around at -insert name of magazine again- long enough to lose myself, but I guess I'm going through a similar phase right now.

No time for details. My roomie's asleep before me for once!