Just when I thought I was going to have to change my name to Chrysanthemum Rose if I wanted to work at any of the places I was applying to ("Hello, this is Violet from the Meadow"..."Hi, this is Sage from Sammy's Flowers," and don't even get me started on "Karen Fern") I finally got a job. Actually, I got two. And one of them has allowed me to cross something off my bucket list.
In a blog post a couple months ago, I made a list of possible career paths, and working in a flower shop was on there, right after interviewing Hannibal Lecter. My case is one in which persistence paid off. Granted, it was borderline creepy persistence -- I actually just found a cover letter I had written Sammy's Flowers over a year ago. But my almost-stalking and intense enthusiasm did the trick: I started working at the shop last week. It's a whole lot of everything -- bouquet making, sweeping, answering phones, taking orders, tagging flowers -- with almost no down time, and it's the best. The woman training me was telling me how lucky she was to get a job at the shop since she hadn't worked with flowers since college, and all I could say was how lucky I was to get a job at the shop without any experience, period.
My other job is at a dress boutique just a few blocks down from Sammy's, so I'll be spending quite a bit of time on Northwest 23rd. All the dresses in the shop are designed by one woman and are handmade locally using Fair Trade silk from India. The fabrics are beautiful and the quality is high, but the dresses certainly aren't cheap, so they appeal to a very specific clientele from what I've seen - mainly brides-to-be and older women looking for special occasion dresses. One of the perks of working there is that I get to wear the clothes without any cost to myself, but the owner was out of town when I started working (about 2 weeks ago now) so I have been wearing my own skirts and dresses, but I still try to look nice and put together. "Try to" are the key words there. The first day I worked I spilled this pungent oily salad dressing down my skirt while I was eating lunch in a dressing room. It got on the dressing room floor, and then I had to rinse my skirt off in the sink and dry it with the automatic hand dryer that I still haven't gotten used to. This dryer is situated uncomfortably close to the sink to the point where it will sense your shoulder or elbow while you are washing your hands. The stupid thing will blast on unexpectedly and scare you like you never thought an appliance could. Trust me, I've been there.
Just when I thought I was going to have to change my name to Chrysanthemum Rose if I wanted to work at any of the places I was applying to ("Hello, this is Violet from the Meadow"..."Hi, this is Sage from Sammy's Flowers," and don't even get me started on "Karen Fern") I finally got a job. Actually, I got two. And one of them has allowed me to cross something off my bucket list. In a blog post a couple months ago, I made a list of possible career paths, and working in a flower shop was on there, right after interviewing Hannibal Lecter. My case is one in which persistence paid off. Granted, it was borderline creepy persistence -- I actually just found a cover letter I had written Sammy's Flowers over a year ago. But my almost-stalking and intense enthusiasm did the trick: I started working at the shop last week. It's a whole lot of everything -- bouquet making, sweeping, answering phones, taking orders, tagging flowers -- with almost no down time, and it's the best. The woman training me was telling me how lucky she was to get a job at the shop since she hadn't worked with flowers since college, and all I could say was how lucky I was to get a job at the shop without any experience, period.
My other job is at a dress boutique just a few blocks down from Sammy's, so I'll be spending quite a bit of time on Northwest 23rd. All the dresses in the shop are designed by one woman and are handmade locally using Fair Trade silk from India. The fabrics are beautiful and the quality is high, but the dresses certainly aren't cheap, so they appeal to a very specific clientele from what I've seen - mainly brides-to-be and older women looking for special occasion dresses. One of the perks of working there is that I get to wear the clothes without any cost to myself, but the owner was out of town when I started working (about 2 weeks ago now) so I have been wearing my own skirts and dresses, but I still try to look nice and put together. "Try to" are the key words there. The first day I worked I spilled this pungent oily salad dressing down my skirt while I was eating lunch in a dressing room. It got on the dressing room floor, and then I had to rinse my skirt off in the sink and dry it with the automatic hand dryer that I still haven't gotten used to. This dryer is situated uncomfortably close to the sink to the point where it will sense your shoulder or elbow while you are washing your hands. The stupid thing will blast on unexpectedly and scare you like you never thought an appliance could. Trust me, I've been there. 
