ARI'S POINT OF VIEW
The morning started off quiet, almost too quiet for my liking. I had a mug of coffee sitting untouched on my desk as I skimmed through another batch of model applications for the brand. A few good faces, many forgettable ones, and the occasional email that made me question how people thought business worked. Some wrote essays about their “passion for fashion” while attaching selfies taken in their bathrooms. I sighed and hit reject again.
It was part of my routine now. Approve, reject, sign, reply. My assistant, Eliza, would pop her head in every hour with that polite smile that meant someone else wanted a piece of my attention. I’d gotten used to it. This company, my brand, had become my fortress. Every click of the keyboard reminded me how far I’d come from being th
