The Flack Files, Vol. 7: New Year’s Resolutions for All!

by Ashley Baker
Flack Files

Happy holidays! Our favorite Flack has a very special message for all you fashionable folk out there.

Dearest Fashion Industry,

The holidays are here, like it or not!  Will you head home with these choice days off, or are you one of the lucky who goes on vacation and escapes the perils of family?

If your Christmas is anything like mine, then this year your alcoholic stepbrother will dress up in your mother’s ancient Lacroix gown and Phillip Treacy headpiece and treat the dinner table to a slurred rendition of Santa Baby. The elderly religious faction of the family will be morally obliged to avert their eyes while you’ll spew Pinot Grigio out of your nose trying to hold in a laugh.

Anywho, to temper the stress of all that inevitably awaits in the Pandora’s box of the family homestead, I’ve been binge watching Girls and drinking all the wine while pondering my New Year’s resolutions for 2016.  This time I’m staying away from the traditional lose-weight, drink-less, save-more scenario—these goals are actually attainable, for once. And by now, you know I’m an equal opportunity offender, so there’s something in here for us all.

So, in 2016:

  • We, the publicists vow to think twice before hitting send on an ultra bad pitch to the wrong outlets. We swear you won’t get an email about Miley Cyrus spritzing her pits with Axe Body Spray backstage at the VMAs if you work anywhere other than Star or Just Jared.
  • We, the editors, swear we won’t mark every single solitary email with URGENT in the subject line. We acknowledge that just because Anna works in the same building it does not actually mean that the sample request is the equivalent of a liver transplant.
  • We, the stylists, promise to try not to ask for 6 copies of an archive style, overnight, for an unconfirmed well story in a foreign magazine that has no LOR and is completely unfindable online.
  • We, the clients, swear we will attempt to not brag that we flew first class to Paris for an inconsequential meeting, and then turn around and say that we have to cut your monthly PR retainer by 30% because of limited cashflow.
  • And I personally, the fash-fatigued, resolve to stop seeing my Sakara Life meals as mere vegan tidbits in between my hourly cheese binges and snack attacks. I vow to stop going to the Class Pass sessions I signed up for on a hope-filled Sunday night just to sign in and then sneak out to have too many martinis.  Who knows, by doing so I might lose weight, drink less and save more.  Ugh, here we go again!

Yours Truly,

The Flack Filer

P.S. To the assistant who had the nerve to email me this morning and request URGENT samples for a shoot tomorrow (Christmas Eve, really?),  I can’t wait to see those pieces as your NYE ensemble in your IG feed. You know who you are.

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