2.12 Léa Whitaker

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May 2044

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May 2044

Aside from the annual Courtenay Foundation Ball, the most important date in my calendar since taking over at Tidda is the Met Gala. Held on the first Monday in May each year, it's the pinnacle of New York's fashion elitism where anyone who is everyone is in attendance. Since the days of Anna Wintour, Vogue has been a partner at each Gala and everyone in this industry, as well as countless celebrities, is desperate to get their hands on a ticket, one way or another. 

Despite what many think, you can't buy your way into the Gala. No, the ultra-exclusive event is invitation only, but even then, you have to pay to attend and if the host doesn't want you there, you don't go. For many, the only way in is to be friends with the inner circle at Vogue or to kiss someone's arse so much that your constant adoration is vital to that someone's existence and as a result, your place at the Gala is guaranteed. 

The only other way, without being sycophantic, is to be a designer, a model, or an influencer whose army of loyal customers makes up Vogue's largest demographic. Luckily for me, I'm the newly-appointed CEO of Tidda, an online lifestyle publication, and with the reach that we're slowly building since I took over, we're on track to becoming one of the leading online wellness and lifestyle brands yet again. The decline that happened under the previous CEO has turned a corner and we're not only seeing the return of our audience, but we're also breaking into new demographics both domestically and internationally. 

It's been a good two months professionally. 

All those contacts Ethan helped me make back in London came through, especially John Christopher, who has been central to our collaborations with many upcoming designers and talents. Through him, we've published several articles from new voices, have highlighted even more female-owned businesses, and we're currently developing a talent pool for artists and photographers. Our sisterhood community have opportunities now more than ever, even if I have to exploit some of my contacts to make it happen. 

Emma at Doré has agreed to support three internships from self-taught designers while also providing a platform for photographers to work with the fashion studio on shoots. Mum has taken some writers under her wing over at La Liste Rouge, although her criteria for working at LLR is quite narrow: she'll only publish works by writers turned down by Vogue. Then Martha over at Freaking A has started to represent some of the models we've discovered, while Uncle Sam and Aunt Evie are currently curating a summer gallery, displaying works by those who Tidda have supported. 

It's been a manic few months but it's been worth it, even if my punishment for doing such a good job is attending tonight's Met Gala. Don't get me wrong, it's an honour to have been invited and I know a lot of people will be jealous, I just can't force myself to be excited about it, not when I know that the Brockhouse brothers will be in attendance. 

I haven't seen or spoken to Ollie since the London party, and even though Ethan has been following my Shutt'r page and liking some of my posts (and highlighting Tidda's posts, too), I haven't spoken to him since that morning in my kitchen. It's been a long nine weeks but even then, it hasn't healed some of the wounds nor has it erased the humiliation.  

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