This last week I was given the opportunity yet again to play "store merchandiser" for Urban while the actual merchandiser was on vacation. As her merch team lead, I have done this a couple times already and for awhile was the unofficial assistant store merchandiser and illegitimate women's manager. Long story, but let's just say that this particular Urban is a shit show. I say shit show with endearment because during this time, I was never bored. Frustrated, yes, but bored? Never. There was never a dull moment because there was hardly a moment to breath let alone find time to be docile. I learned to love the crazy. I also loved the idea of being able to help the store merchandiser and thought perhaps through that unique experience, gain acknowledgement from the "higher ups" of my hard work and dedication to fulfill my personal goal of having my own store to merchandise. For awhile it seemed as though it was more than a possibility, but then the "higher ups" that saw whatever potential I had were transferred to another district that did not include New Orleans and I was back at square one, or worse. Since then I mostly have been subjected to mediocre, mundane tasks that leave me drooling on myself along with immense feelings of inadequacy and a touch of spite. But I digress...
I took the time to take some phone shots of my mannequins so that I have them for my personal reference to see how/if I grow and/or evolve as a "stylist". The first 4 are what I decided to put in the window so as to entice innocent bystanders passing through the French Quarter.
1.
Tadaaaaaaaaaaaa! Killmyself. Feedback/constructive criticism is encouraged.