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Cigarette break with Elle girls

Every now and then comes that time when you look back, you make a revision and clean your closet before you can run forward again towards new adventures and new wins. Before I write down my to-do list I remember all those experiences that drew me to this station… Oh, and what a trip that was!

Because I’m not the kind of person that could live with regrets, I go about everything that makes my heart skip a beat. And that’s how I packet my suitcase (ok, I admit, 3 suitcases) with a one way ticket to Paris in my pocket. At least for a while I made the city I love most call my home. Maybe it didn’t all work out as planned, but when does it really? That summer in The City of Lights gave me more life experience, fashion knowledge, croissants and French kisses as all my life beforehand.

How different the worlds. Paris and Ljubljana. In every view possible. Paris can sometimes play this game with you. Even when you’re your most confident self and go on a fashion escapade with your 4-member team, pulling clothes from your small carry-on in the middle of Pont Alexandre III and with passers stopping to glaze their eyes at the avant-garde model, the most random thing happens.

On the other side of the bridge suddenly appears a 15-member team preparing their filming gear that had more pieces than I was able to count at that moment. But people still stop and hold their breath. I myself oh so often glaze at these photos which remind me that size really doesn’t matter. What counts is dedication. Love for creating amazing stories. However cliché that may sound.

Being small in comparison to the great can be intimidating or if you let it, extremely challenging. If you’re anything like me then at such an opportunity you set to assisting on set with the charming Amelie aka Audrey Tautou and you are suddenly living your dreams. Dressing Miss Tautou in Prada is nevertheless an unimaginable reality.

Sharing the studio building, I, among other things, caught Elle girls on their cigarette break, while shooting their September issue fashion story. Their effortless chic is like a drug. Who needs tobacco anyway? These nonchalant ladies, that looked more like runway models than girls from the office, were a personalization of everything I ever wanted.

When they’re all grouped up, when it’s time for Paris Fashion Week, they’re the first thing you notice. I usually lay low, smoke that cigarette (that I only smoke when in district number 75000 anyway) and sneak into my third row seat. Being a part of fashion week is somewhat like being a witness to a new world record in cross barriers. And at the same time it demands just as much persistence and energy as if you’d make that record yourself.

After all the stages of the day it’s time to pass the baton and write down all the key events, from Anna Dello Russo’s uniform to collections that made you dream for a while. The medal is conferred when you see your sweat and tears on the Internet and when the following season the PR girl kisses you French style all the way to the front row seat. Candice, if you’re reading this, merci!

So what’s the result of my revision, you ask? Just now I’m starting to realize I’m actually not that far from living my when-I-grow-up-I’ll-be-an-editor life. I already shared an ashtray with the Elle girls, and my street style shot that landed on the page of French Elle was already replaced by my article that reads “Women as inspiration to men”.

I’m proud to be a person who permits myself opportunities, who has balls and makes an attempt even when everyone else is in doubt. Even if my path sometimes intercepts with 15-member teams from German Quelle catalogue. Giving 100% even when you have no clue what you’re getting yourself into is what, in the end, leads you to hanging out with Elle creators. This time without tobacco and with a real Elle publication.


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