The Great Biscuit Conundrum.

During the fashion weeks of New York, London, Milan and Paris, life as a humble fashion intern actually got a bit stressful. I had started to become good friends with the terrifyingly beautiful girls that inhabit our fashion office and wanted to help relieve their workload. As my limited experience rather restricted the amount of work I could help with, I thought I could at least make the long working hours a little more bearable.

Normally, if I see people around me getting stressed or working extra hours I bake some cakes and try to ease their pain by feeding them good, honest carbs. Without thinking of the consequences, I spent an evening with the mixing bowl, loaded myself with cakes, buns and biscuits and struggled off on the commute thinking I had the answer to the office stress levels.

How wrong I was.

The mixed emotions that greeted my baking efforts were on complete opposite ends of the scale. In front on me were gorgeous, slim and overworked beauties gagging for a good bit of cupcake. But then, on their shoulders were consciences screaming at the sight of calories, fat and delicious temptation. The cakes were gratefully accepted, and then hidden in the most unlikely of places, miles from anyone's desks so as to be 'out of sight and out of mind'. Sadly, the longing glances these cakes received were the only recognition they got, as the streams of catwalk images floating across our screens were a constant reminder of how you can look if you avoid cake altogether.

It's a shame, but at least the FedEx man and our cleaners got a (slightly stale) reward for their often unappreciated work!

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