Breaking into Luxury: A Fashion Intern’s Lesson in Style and Authenticity

“Ah, so you also thought, I will improve?”

This was the question I heard from a colleague at Cartier after I gave the team what I thought was a compliment. It was September 2007. I was 22 and fresh out of university — or actually, still in it. Determined to work in luxury, I had eagerly applied for a second internship at what felt like the pinnacle of elegance: Cartier. French. Jewellery. Legacy. Luxury.

Four words that sounded like magic to me. A universe I didn’t just want to be part of — I needed to be. Little did I know this universe doesn’t come with a map.

At the summer barbecue, or the fourth day of my internship, my manager introduced my to some colleagues. She was fairly new as well and also introduced herself. When we left the conversation of our new introduction, I overheard the people we just talked to. “You kind of see when they work at Cartier, they pay very good attention to how they look”. “Ahhh, that is nice”, I thought to myself. What a great compliment to my colleagues and team. Later that evening, I told the others what I’d overheard: “So they complimented the Cartier team, about how nice they dress”, I said to them. That’s when the senior colleague turned to me and said:

“Ah, so you also thought, I will improve?” Ouch…

As like any fresh new employee, I wanted to fit in. I wanted everyone believe I belonged there from the start, I wanted to dress the part. Apparently, according someone, I didn’t. Was it the white skinny jeans that I thought was the perfect summer casual statement? Were it the brown cowboy booths, or was it the noses that were a little run down. I thought I was my absolute best, brilliant, trendy self for as much as I could be as a 22 year old student. I didn’t feel at all like I didn’t improvement. Refinement, yes, maybe, but improvement? I didn’t need to improve. I just needed to arrive — fully, as myself. (Although I did leave the cowboy boots at home after that.)

I stayed and evolved (or should I say refined?) at Cartier for three more years, and later spent six more at another brand of Richemont. So yes — I’ve seen the industry from the inside, in all its beauty, polish, and paradoxes. Cartier taught me about heritage, refinement, and detail. But it also taught me that elegance means nothing without authenticity. And that true style doesn’t require a uniform.

These early moments still shape the way I teach, speak and write about luxury today — not as an insider anymore, but as someone who’s learned how to navigate it and open it up.

Want to create space for more authentic stories in fashion and luxury? Let’s talk.

This is one of many moments that shaped the way I see style, luxury and belonging— and one I’ll never forget and that me and my friends still use as funny anecdote. It’s one of my first reflections, but certainly not the last. I’m collecting more of these stories as part of a writing project about working in fashion from the inside out. Stay tuned.