Margot had long grown accustomed to

Margot had long grown accustomed to the high drama of the fashion world. She’d worked at shows where the audience was kept sitting and waiting for hours because behind the curtain the designer was in the midst of a total meltdown, suddenly doubting the worth of his or her collection. Were the clothes truly sublime, or would every stitch and painstakingly chosen fabric get trashed in the next edition of W? The crisis of confidence could spread like a contagion until even the lowliest of assistants was running around, frantically adjusting hemlines and switching scarves and belts in a last-ditch effort to save the show.
Working on set or on location wasn’t any easier. A shoot might drag on insanely because the photographer was dissatisfied; anything could be blamed for spoiling the shoot—the location, the models, the quality of the light. Then there were the stylists, the fashion editors, and other ordinarily sane people who walked onto the set and suddenly started acting like drama queens pumped full of amphetamines. Catastrophes and temper tantrums were the norm. It was no wonder why. Sequestering too many artistic, driven, and egotistical personalities together for a five-or six-hour period provided ample time for boredom, jealousy, and petty rivalry to ferment. Add some puffed-up VP or ad executive constantly shouting “Come on, people, time is money!” and things got ugly fast.
That was why Margot loved working with Charlie. Even behind the camera lens, Charlie was Charlie. Strangely enough, his relaxed, California surfer-dude charm could work magic on the most uptight of ad execs and fashion editors.
Thanks to Anika and the orange bullet, Margot arrived at his Chelsea studio a full fifteen minutes early. Even so, the enormous light-filled loft was already abuzz with activity.
Palin, Charlie’s favorite stylist, spotted her first. Trotting over, he enfolded her in a hug. “Hello, doll. It’s so good to see you.”
“Hi, Palin. What’s playing today?” An iTunes fiend, Palin loved compiling playlists and sharing them with friends. Margot’s iPod held many of his “sound tracks to life.”
“You’re going to love it. It’s got a little Diana, some Roxy Music, Bowie, Costello, The Cure, Seal.”
“Can’t wait to hear it. Is Kristin working on the shoot, too?”
“No. Charlie asked for her, but Dior’s using their own makeup artist. His name’s Deckert.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “But all of us are calling him dickhead. He’s already started bitching from a to z.”
“Already? That’s rich.”
“He’s quite the prima donna. Want to meet the big D?” Palin asked, wagging his brows over his rectangular-framed glasses. “He’s over there, boring Evan and Keisha to death.”
Margot glanced toward the other end of the studio. Evan and Keisha, Charlie’s assistants, were doing a color check for the set they’d constructed, an opulent bedroom scene. A middle-aged guy, copycatting Karl Lagerfeld in a white T-shirt, leather pants, straggly ponytail, and dark glasses, was talking to them.
“Tempting, but no. I need to say hi to Charlie.” She looked around the studio but didn’t spot his shaggy blond head. “Where is he?”
“He’s in the dressing room, going over the wardrobe picks with the ad director and the wardrobe consultant. Oh, and did I mention that you’ve got competition? Our pal Deckert’s got a big hunk of burning love for Charlie.” His grin was pure wickedness.
“Oh, great,” Margot said with a roll of her eyes. “This is going to be really fun.”

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1:

Margot telah lama terbiasa drama tinggi dunia mode. Dia telah bekerja di menunjukkan mana penonton telah dipelihara duduk dan menunggu berjam-jam karena di balik tirai desainer di tengah-tengah kehancuran total, tiba-tiba meragukan nilai koleksi nya. Adalah pakaian yang benar-benar sublim, atau akan setiap jahitan dan susah payah pilihan kain mendapatkan dibuang di edisi berikutnya w? Krisis kepercayaan bisa menyebar seperti penularan sampai bahkan dikawasan asisten berlarian, menyesuaikan hemlines panik dan switching syal dan sabuk dalam upaya terakhir untuk menyelamatkan konser ini.Bekerja pada set atau di lokasi tidak lebih mudah. Menembak mungkin menarik gila-gilaan karena fotografer tidak puas; apa pun yang bisa disalahkan untuk memanjakan menembak — lokasi, model, kualitas cahaya. Kemudian ada stylist, mode editor dan orang lain biasanya waras yang berjalan ke set dan tiba-tiba mulai bertindak seperti drama queens dipompa amfetamin. Bencana dan amarah adalah norma. Itu tidak mengherankan mengapa. Eksekusi terlalu banyak kepribadian artistik, didorong dan egois bersama selama lima atau enam jam memberikan cukup waktu untuk kebosanan, kecemburuan dan kecil persaingan memfermentasi. Tambahkan beberapa puffed-up VP atau eksekutif iklan terus berteriak "datang, orang, waktu adalah uang!" dan hal-hal yang mendapat jelek cepat.Itulah sebabnya kenapa Margot senang bekerja dengan Charlie. Bahkan di belakang lensa kamera, Charlie adalah Charlie. Anehnya, nya santai, California surfer dude pesona dapat bekerja keajaiban pada paling tegang dari iklan eksekutif dan mode editor.Anika dan peluru jeruk, Margot tiba di Chelsea studio penuh lima belas menit awal. Meskipun demikian, loteng penuh cahaya besar sudah abuzz dengan aktivitas.Palin, Charlie's favorit penata, terlihat pertama. Berlari atas, ia enfolded dia dalam pelukan. "Halo, boneka. Ini sangat baik untuk melihat Anda.""Hai, Palin. Apa yang bermain hari?" ITunes Iblis, Palin mencintai menyusun playlist dan berbagi dengan teman-teman. Margot's iPod diadakan banyak "suara trek untuk hidup.""Kau akan menyukainya. It's got sedikit Diana, beberapa Roxy musik, Bowie, Costello, The Cure, Seal.""Tidak bisa menunggu untuk mendengar hal itu. Kristin bekerja pada menembak, juga?""No. Charlie meminta padanya, tapi Dior's menggunakan rias mereka sendiri. Deckert nama-Nya." Suaranya turun bisikan. "Tetapi semua orang memanggilnya tetap bandel. Dia sudah mulai mengeluh dari a sampai z. ""Sudah? Itu kaya.""Dia adalah cukup primadona. Ingin bertemu D besar?" Palin bertanya, bergoyang-goyang alis Nya atas kacamatanya berbingkai persegi panjang. "Dia adalah di sana, membosankan Evan dan Keisha mati."Margot glanced toward the other end of the studio. Evan and Keisha, Charlie’s assistants, were doing a color check for the set they’d constructed, an opulent bedroom scene. A middle-aged guy, copycatting Karl Lagerfeld in a white T-shirt, leather pants, straggly ponytail, and dark glasses, was talking to them.“Tempting, but no. I need to say hi to Charlie.” She looked around the studio but didn’t spot his shaggy blond head. “Where is he?”“He’s in the dressing room, going over the wardrobe picks with the ad director and the wardrobe consultant. Oh, and did I mention that you’ve got competition? Our pal Deckert’s got a big hunk of burning love for Charlie.” His grin was pure wickedness.“Oh, great,” Margot said with a roll of her eyes. “This is going to be really fun.”