Fashion interns: who should we believe?

All this hype about Sean Avery and his "internship" at Vogue has seriously made me wonder what a real intern does.

You know, the fresh-out-of-college (or perhaps still in college) twenty-somethings dying to become the next Anna Wintour, or the Devil Wears Prada gal, who would do anything just to have a taste of the high-fashion magazine world. Even if that taste means running around New York City (or in my case London) dropping off clothes, running silly errands, and getting coffee. I've been a fashion intern. In PR. It's not all glamorous like shows such as The Hills make it seem. Or as fabulous and involved as Sean Avery's diary explains:

I jumped right in. First up was a creative meeting attended by the magazine's senior staff, which gave me a broad look at upcoming shoots, potential covers, and which writers, editors, and photographers were covering which stories.

You're kidding, me. Senior staff? Meetings? Actual insight? Assistants, let alone interns, hardly get this privilege. Plus, he is a guest editor for Men's Vogue. Okay. I get it. He's a famous hockey player. Professional. In his late twenties. But a blurb in New York Magazine mentions,

To be afforded such responsibility can only mean he's doing a truly stupendous job as an intern.

I seriously doubt that him being awarded such luxuries as an intern, so unlike other Vogue interns, means he's doing a "stupendous job." Frankly, I think it means he's just "well-connected" and is good press for the magazine and its internship program (especially after Devil Wears Prada, the book and the movie, that divulged...well sort of...the harsh reality behind high-fashion glossies).

Truly, why should he have an up on all the other fashionistas dying to have the job, too, who have the same credentials he's claiming -- a sincere interest in fashion and clothes -- if not more qualified ones, like an education in the subject (and professional writing experience). Everyone who loves fashion, it seems, wants to work at Vogue, because like many people say, it's the "bible of fashion." And who doesn't want to say they've worked on the Bible? The industry has a glamorous, party-life facade, but what's underneath it all is overworked young people in a drama-central atmosphere. I want to know: is it worth it?

Finally, New York Magazine broke the ice and spoke to some real Vogue interns, who essentially revealed that all Sean Avery is getting is special treatment. He got his own desk (and assignments!) when all they got was a cramped, shared space, a list of unrealistic requests and insane amounts grunt work -- expected to be performed in stilettos.

Who are we supposed to believe?

If you have any stories about your personal experience in the industry, speak up! Let's hear 'em.