Published: February 16, 2011

One of the deciding factors in my decision to attend Fordham was the access I would have to the fashion and magazine worlds. I knew I wanted to one day work in fashion or magazines, and there was no better place for me to get my foot in the proverbial door than Manhattan. Shows like MTV’s “The Hills” made interning at Teen Vogue seem so glamorous and cool; I could hardly wait to secure an internship of my own. The one thing that “The Hills” left out was the hardships you have to endure to finally see the benefits of an internship, and it’s taken me a while to see the value of my struggles.

In May of my sophomore year, I scored an interview for a summer position with Allure, one of my favorite magazines. I was finally entering the Condé Nast building, taking the same elevators that Anna Wintour and the many other editors that I admired take. I thought my interview went very well, and I left feeling confident and well on my way to a fabulous summer internship.

I never heard back from Allure.

Not even a “sorry, we didn’t choose you” e-mail. Nothing. I should have known this was a sign of things to come. Disheartened, I spent the rest of May, June and July as a hostess at my father’s restaurant, continually sending out my résumé to any internship postings I saw. So not the glamorous life I had imagined myself living that summer. By mid-July, however, the requests for interviews were rolling in. And then, the Mecca of all fashion magazines emailed me requesting an interview: Vogue.

Again I got to step foot inside the Condé Nast building; this time though, I was interviewing at Wintour’s magazine, not just taking the same elevator. Again, I thought the interview went very well, and I left feeling confident. No more than two hours later, while enjoying a sandwich from Alan’s on the Plaza, I received an e-mail offering me the internship. As I responded with my acceptance of the position, Visions of styling beautiful dresses on models and helping to choose a pair of Christian Louboutins over Prada pumps danced in my head as I accepted my first internship.

I have had four internships: the aforementioned one in the accessories department at Vogue magazine, a press internship at VPL by Victoria Bartlett (a small fashion label), a fitness and entertainment editorial position at SELF magazine and most recently a public relations and events position at Saks Fifth Avenue. To outsiders, these positions sound glamorous and exciting. Admittedly, for the most part they were. I was able to attend photo shoots alongside the likes of Grace Coddington, work backstage during fashion week, and meet Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen, Michael Kors, Donna Karan and Vera Wang, among others. I learned the importance of being reliable and proficient in doing what was asked of me.

But some other skills I picked up along the way? Functioning properly in class running on three hours of sleep after interning until 11 p.m. and doing homework until 3 a.m. Learning how to become “invisible.” Transporting thousands of dollars in clothes and shoes from a showroom in SoHo… on the subway. I am also now capable of balancing 10 orders from Starbucks in both hands, while simultaneously carrying four shopping bags and answering a call as to why I’m not back yet. My parents must be so proud.

Mind you, I understand that I was a lowly intern, not a paid employee of these companies (there is nothing so humbling as working 30 hours a week for free, trust me). But at the same time, I am studying journalism and public relations, the exact fields I was interning in. Doesn’t this count for something? Surely it should at least entitle me to more responsibility than crawling on my hands and knees moving boxes around in a closet, or being asked to manually search through a 3,000-cell Excel spreadsheet “because the computer didn’t do it right.”

Interning means long hours, forgotten lunch (and sometimes dinner) breaks, being taken advantage of and feeling very underappreciated. Is it worth it? My misery and tears upon returning home exhausted at 11:30 p.m. would beg me to say no, but the big names on my resume and the reputation they carry is well worth the two years I interned for free, or at least it will be when I secure a job.