The Knockoff by Lucy Sykes, Jo Piazza Read Free Book Online Page B

until marriage. She also felt sad for them. These women would never know the joys of sharing a tiny space with two other girls, all in the same boat, all trying to make ends meet over Pringles and bits snuck home from a fancy store opening. One time her roommate Bridgett snuck an entire bottle of Dom Pérignon down the front of her Calvin Klein shift dress. They bought strawberries on the street and melted a Hershey’s bar over their always-present yellow Bic lighters to make chocolate-covered treats as they sipped the golden liquid with the most delicate bubbles that had ever touched their tongues. Then they stayed up that night talking until dawn about the women they wanted to be when they were finished being the girls who stole champagne and smoked a pack of Marlboros in a day. It was during that conversation that Imogen first declared she wanted to be the editor in chief of a women’s fashion magazine. No one laughed. All of them had equally serious and lofty ambitions, most of which had now come to fruition in their forties.
    Their fridge in those days was filled with beauty products and the kitchen shelves were laden with vintage sweaters. Rails and rails of clothing racks on wheels lined the walls. It was little more than a one-bedroom closet with small nooks carved out for sleeping.
    Had it not been for that apartment and that sense of ambition that can only be born out of struggle, she wouldn’t be who she was today.
    Before Imogen could write the new breed of
Glossy
girls off as flighty nitwits, they revealed their own elaborate business plans, each one more violently ambitious than the next. In her spare time one created a website that allowed women all over the world to shop from one another’s closets, borrowing items for short or long amounts of time, based on a barter system. Another was determined to build a social network that expressly focused on shoe-shopping. They didn’tspeak about positions like editor in chief or even CEO. They spoke in terms of equity, customer acquisition and fund-raising rounds. They spoke about billions of dollars.
    “Success to me is doing something you’re passionate about. It’s kind of my goal one day to have my own company, to be part of something that is going to do something meaningful and make the world a better place. That’s why I’m in tech,” Mandi said.
    Was tech the industry they worked in now? They seemed so innocent. They still lived at home and yet they juggled all these projects at once. They
were
hardworking. She felt a certain energy, but couldn’t explain what it was. Imogen had no idea how her magazine could exist only online. She could tell that these girls couldn’t imagine a future in which it existed anywhere but.
    By the end of the night, three glasses of wine nipping the neurons in her brain, Imogen felt threatened again. The way the girls lived might be childish, but their ideas were adult. They were personally stunted but brilliant with business acumen. Their technological prowess and self-awareness were intimidating. One thing she was learning about this generation was how secure they were in the knowledge that they were all very special snowflakes.
    She was almost relieved when an email from Eve gave her a reason to make her excuses and leave.
From: Eve Morton ([email protected])
    To: Imogen Tate ([email protected])
    Im,
    You’re probably SO overwhelmed. Breakfast tomorrow morning, 8:00? We’ll talk about everything. You don’t hate me or anything now? I sure hope not. LOL. I need you on board for this. The new site is going to be SO AWESOME. WE ARE GOING TO DISRUPT THE FASHION INDUSTRY!!!!!!
    xo
    E.
    With that Imogen ordered a glass of water instead of another wine and politely said her good-byes.
From: Imogen Tate ([email protected])
    To: Eve Morton ([email protected])
    E.
    8:30. The Four Seasons. See you there.
    Best,
    Imogen
    Perry piped up as Imogen drew a crisp hundred-dollar bill out of her wallet.
    “I am going to get the bill