Chaos, couture, and croissants: A Milan Fashion Week intern’s diary

Spotted: Yours truly, hustling through the chaos of Milan Fashion Week, croissant in one hand, garment list in the other. If you think it's all glamour and champagne, think again. Let me take you behind the velvet ropes. It’s a world of frantic changeovers, killer stilettos, and runway-ready chaos that would make even the coolest New Yorker sweat. So buckle up, fashionistas—this is your VIP pass to my wild intern diary during one of the world’s most fabulous fashion events. Spoiler alert: it’s not all dolce vita.

7:30 AM: Ciao Bella, Rise and Shine!

Mornings during fashion week are a blur of alarms and adrenaline. I’d drag myself out of bed by 7:30 am and grab a quick espresso on the go—because who has time for a full breakfast when call time is 8:30? That iconic Italian coffee paired with a flaky croissant (often wolfed down on the metro). Let’s just say breakfast during fashion week is more of survival fuel than foodie indulgence.

8:30 AM: Welcome to one huge closet

Stepping into the venue felt like entering a high-speed cyclone of fabric, cameras, and hair spray. Models were scrambling to switch looks for rehearsals, while dressers feverishly steamed outfits. The front of the house? A tornado of check-ins, photographers aiming for the perfect behind-the-scenes shots, and don’t even get me started on the hair and make-up teams. Armed with moodboards provided by designers, they were tasked with transforming models into walking works of art in what seemed like record time. Every model's look was dictated by the designer’s vision, so make-up and hair needed to be spot on. The pressure? Through the roof!

I was tasked with the models’ order sheet, clutching my precious clipboard like it was a Birkin bag. Each sheet detailed the exact sequence in which the models would walk, what they were wearing from head to toe, and most importantly, who had a quick change. The quick change models were walking for multiple designers, which meant I had to ensure they transitioned seamlessly. Hair, make-up, clothes—all had to be changed faster than you could say “couture”—think of it as a game of runway Tetris. This meant orchestrating a seamless transformation—new outfit, fresh hair, and make-up, and bam! Back to the runway, looking like they’ve been on a spa retreat, not in a whirlwind of silk and sequins.

1:00 PM: Lunching the Parisian Way (Sort of)

By the time the midday lull hit, our 45-minute lunch break felt like a luxury—in Paris and Italy, no one rushes through lunch, and no one works on weekends. I got a taste for that leisurely attitude when we ducked into a nearby café for pizza, salad, and a latte. It was the perfect reset before diving back into the fashion frenzy.

3:00 PM: Showtime, Baby!

The afternoon is when things truly ramp up. The show must go on, and my role was to make sure it did. With my trusty clipboard in hand, I took note of each model’s look, from head to toe—every tiny detail matters. Missing a heel? That’s a disaster. Hair not perfect? Cue a full-blown glam squad emergency. And then, of course, there was the inevitable last-minute panic: "We need another model!"—just minutes before the runway walk. Cue scrambling, reshuffling, and praying to the fashion gods.

Once the models hit the catwalk, there was a split second of calm—a fleeting sense of accomplishment, knowing all the madness led to those flawless moments under the lights. It’s all about ensuring the designers are happy, models are runway-ready, and everything goes off without a hitch.

7:00 PM: Strikes, Scooters, and an unforgettable experience

Just when you thought the day couldn’t get any more unpredictable, Milan had other plans. One of our busiest show days coincided with a public transport strike. That meant no buses, no metros, and Uber was a nightmare: huge wait times and surge pricing that could break any fashion intern’s bank. So what did we do? We rented three lime scooters (because only three were available) and took turns riding 45 minutes back to our hotel. Picture this: designer outfits, heels, and scooters—what a scene! But hey, who said fashion week wasn’t about the hustle?

Final Thoughts: Worth Every Blister 

Fashion week is not for the faint of heart—or feet. After standing for hours, running around backstage, and dealing with last-minute wardrobe crises, my body felt broken. But it’s also the most thrilling experience you can imagine. Watching these elaborate productions come together, knowing you played a part (even a small one) in making it all happen, is incredibly rewarding.

So, the next time you scroll through flawless Instagram posts of models in couture gowns, remember that behind that perfection, there’s a whole world of people, dressers, make-up artists, and photographers making magic happen. And trust me, it’s worth every croissant, quick change, and late-night scooter ride.

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