Chapter 332
Words:1581Update:22/07/01 05:38:35
Designers from all over the United States gathered there to pursue their dreams. They wouldn't settle for the next best thing, which was to leave their footprints in other cities.
Even if it was in an old building like Grace Building, having his own private design studio would be considered as fulfilling one of his childhood dreams.
Qin Guan's identity as a student protected him well. He had no interest in joining an agency or a modeling company in the United States, where he knew everything about the United States.
Many Chinese models were guided by their managers, while others chose to work alone.
The only downside was that the interviews would be tiring. You would have to fight for the same opportunity later than others, but it would save you a lot of trouble.
That would be a good choice for Qin Guan.
Besides, New York didn't have an actors' union like Broadway, and it wasn't as complicated as the film and television actors' union in Los Angeles. Models in the fashion industry didn't have their own unions. Even if they did, they would be in Britain, not in New York.
Qin Guan, the fearless Asian boy, plunged into the melting pot of New York with a thick resume in his arms.
His girlfriend was not the one who was most interested in the job, but Xu. When he had first heard about Qin Guan's part-time job, his eyes had almost popped out of their sockets.
Then he had insisted that Qin Guan did not have a car, so he would be Qin Guan's chauffeur for free.
"Do you think you can travel the distance between Chelsea Street and Times Square by public transportation? I can see that if you keep running around like a headless fly, you'll only get two interviews a day. "
How can you build up your network if you waste your time like that? I won't give you the job for free. I'll borrow your homework from you. I'll be your chauffeur until you buy a car. "
It turned out that the guy had been waiting for him.
"Okay, thank you. See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow."
Finally, Qin Guan appeared among the busy people in Manhattan. Xu, who was waiting in the park, saw his resolute back.
He had never expected that the most low-key student at Columbia University would be his international classmate.
Xu parked his Ford outside Qin Guan's house, waiting for his Chinese classmate. When Qin Guan knocked on the window, Xu realized that there was something wrong with the way his classmate had opened the door.
The other party was wearing a beautiful black collared short-sleeved shirt with round buttons that were as exquisite as pearls. The subtleties of the shirt reflected the extraordinariness of the shirt.
When Qin Guan sat down on the passenger seat, he bent his long legs, leaving no creases on his trousers.
When Qin Guan picked up his Louis Vuitton bag and got out of the car, Xu's eyes were still fixed on his short hair, which was standing on end.
He wanted to focus on Qin Guan's face, but he didn't want to be distracted by it on the busy New York streets. He was afraid of getting into an accident.
Xu Xiaoxiao took a long time to calm himself down in the parking lot. He took the initiative to have a cup of iced coffee from a mobile dining car in the park.
He had once doubted and sneered at the Chinese idiom. It was an exaggeration, but today, he finally understood the profoundness of the Chinese language. He could feel the meaning of the idiom from Qin Guan.
Didn't you see that? There were three or four girls staring at him in a daze while he was crossing the road?
Even New Yorkers, who didn't like to look at passers-by, had the same reaction. Xu was full of confidence about Qin Guan's job.
First, Qin Guan had to go to Times Square, where the top 10 brands in the world gathered. Their design studios were in a skyscraper at the back of the square.
Qin Guan got into the elevator with the rush of people. He was holding a map of the studios that John had given him.
People strive for higher places, just like water flows to lower places. Making the most efficient use of time was the purpose of his trip.
His first target was Armani, which was a well-known brand for men's formal wear. It was a good fit for Qin Guan.
Unfortunately, since it was at the top of the fashion industry, it was naturally the fiercest battlefield in the modeling circle. Not to mention the biggest modeling agencies and top managers in the US, even international supermodels with independent studios would choose this place as their first choice.
Don't tell me about Armani's new recruits this year. 99.999% of them were recommended by major companies. Qin Guan was trying to seize that one in a million chance.
Face-to-face submissions.
Face-to-face submissions were made by people who had been in the modeling industry for a while and were experienced. However, they couldn't stand the harsh conditions set by agencies and managers and were unwilling to submit to dirty deals or unspoken rules. This was a special group of people that came into existence.
They knew the location of the designer, the address of the brand company, and when was the peak of the brand launch and show.
They made use of their familiarity with the industry to appear in front of major brands by casting a wide net and running more orders.
Although they were much weaker than those models with corporate backgrounds and had to wait for opportunities, many independent designers welcomed their existence.
That was because they would find models that matched their design concepts or brand clothing during the interview process.
And there would always be one or two models who would inadvertently be discovered by a big brand in a small show, and then soar to the top.
Qin Guan didn't think too much about it. He was a stranger in a foreign land, so that was the only way for him.
Armani's office was just like its style. It was so simple that it felt as if you had entered a different dimension. The pure white walls were not redundant at all. Only a few fancy Armani subtitles ran through the hall from beginning to end.
The quiet and solemn hall was different from the hustle and bustle of the studio. People who didn't know better would think that they had entered a fantasy world.
The receptionist at the front desk was very busy. She was in a short black skirt, busily sorting out the documents that had just been sent to her by other companies. She had to sort them out before she could deliver them to the departments.
She turned her head and looked at the neatly dressed visitor. Her gaze swept from the bottom to the top of the trousers, and she was able to determine the other person's identity.
She casually scanned the faces of the visitors and pointed to a few large, beautifully designed boxes near the entrance of the front hall. She said, "Just submit your resume to the appropriate position."
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