A/N: I've seen The September Issue so many times lately that this may be all jumbled between Vogue/Runway facts. But they're similar so WHATEVS.
Mallory Fitz had wanted to work at Runway for as long as she could remember. She had devoured Miranda Priestley's Editor Letters ever since she could read, and today was the day she had been preparing for since age 12. She had an interview. A woman who was in a sorority with her mother knew someone from Human Resources at Runway, and she had pulled a few strings as soon as word got out that Miranda had fired her junior assistant, Andrea Sachs.
Mallory straightened the bottom of the Celine skirt. She had nearly maxed out her emergency credit card buying the thing, but first impressions were everything in the fashion world, so the purchase was justified- or so she told herself.
A woman in a brightly patterned minidress smiled warmly as she approached Mallory, "Right this way. We're going to put you through a screening with Miranda's senior assistant, and if she approves of you then we'll send you in to see Miranda. A little preparation before going into the lion's den. Or lioness, rather." She giggled nervously and quickly glanced over her shoulder, "I mean. Not that she's mean. Just… decisive." Wow, thought Mallory. This woman is a freak. The two women walked through the pristine lobby into a small conference room with a white plexiglass table, quickly followed by a stunning, thin red headed girl who introduced herself as Emily. The strange woman who had first spoken to Mallory disappeared, leaving her with the red head.
"So," she began, her eyes bearing into Mallory's, "you want to work for Miranda, I see. Do you really think you're up to it? According to your resume, the most experience you have is working at a monthly newspaper. I'm-"
This Emily person kept talking, and Mallory tried to pay attention. It was hard, though, when Emily was wearing a sheer red dress with a black bra that showed right through. I KNOW THAT DRESS FROM SOMEWHERE. Shit. Where?
"Hello? Is there a reason you're staring at my chest?" Emily asked sharply, in that sexy British accent.
Managing to remember at just the right moment, Mallory answered, "Just eyeing that dress jealously. It's Dior, yes?"
Emily's eyes brightened, apparently impressed. "Good eye. Yes, it's from the Spring/Summer '10 collection. Fresh out of the closet for the day. I think you'll do just fine with Miranda, Mallory." She even smiled a little as Mallory stood up, brushing past her. "Lead the way."