Filled with anticipation and eagerness to please, I agreed to fly out to New York City in a week, not wanting to miss the opportunity for a coveted summer internship.

When I hung up the phone and regained my breath, the questions came.

You know the kind, the endless stream of perplexing conundrums that wander into the consciousness on the heels of really great news.

How will I get there? Where will I stay? What on earth can I talk about?

And most importantly, what will I wear?

With one panicked phone call to my father, the flight was booked in a matter of hours. He so lovingly reminded me that the tickets were nonrefundable, so if I was going to chicken out, it was too late. The bad news? I was only going to be in town for one day.

Transportation? Check.

Now I was committed. I was going to be in New York in a matter of days to prove why this 20-year-old from Livonia would fit into the big city.

Slowly coming to grips with my impending date with journalistic destiny, the true horror of interviewing at a fashion magazine slowly crept into my daydreaming , I wondered what I was going to wear.

Though perhaps shallow in delivery, this question proved to be the most daunting task in preparation for my trip. Do I look like them? Do I rebel? Do I spend a lot? Do I wear a — gulp — suit?

In terms of appearance for an interview, I have always followed these rules: Dress in basic, solid colors, nothing flashy, no perfume, clean nails, hair back, light makeup.

But for this, I totally drew a blank. Luckily, a company like this utilizes the Internet well, posting pictures of their employees online and boasting a slightly popular television show documenting the lives of their interns.

Suddenly, images of Carrie Bradshaw gallivanting down the streets of Manhattan in all her Manolo Blahnik glory began trampling over the loosening grip I thought I had on my fashion sense.

Plus, I am cheap — a product of the outlet mall and Forever 21 generation, paying more than $30 for one thing threatened to give me heart palpitations. Lucky for me, reasoning inspired by some great friends brought me back to Earth.

The best fashion advice is always to be yourself. A fake fashionista dressed like a Prada ad on a college budget is not only unrealistic — at least for me — but obnoxious when begging for a job with no pay.

Outfit? Check.

Exactly nine days and more than $700 dollars later, my flight was booked, my outfit laid pressed on my bed and I was unwrapping a brand new portfolio book, coordinated of course, for my great adventure to the epicenter of U.S. fashion journalism.

I had my ticket, my references, my clips and a bit of self-esteem, courtesy of some reassuring parents and just a few affirmations in the mirror.

With just one day in the city, my first ever, I had to drink it all in. After all, no interview guarantees a job, and I take my day trips when I can get them.

When traveling for an interview, especially to uncharted territory, find the location first. For me, it was a tall concrete skyscraper — surprise — with an expansive lobby fitting to "The Devil Wears Prada." I watched the women walk in across the floor — clearly rejuvenated by a lunch spent shopping on Fifth Avenue — pass through the turnstile and head upstairs to the magazines I had been reading my entire life.

Despite it all, the fear subsided.

I got off the elevator at the ninth floor. To my left was GQ, and to my right was Teen Vogue. I took a deep breath and, if only for a moment, saw where I could be working for the summer — a fashion-obsessed college student's dream job.

As they called my name, it all made sense. I went in — although maybe a little more dressed up — as myself. I walked all my knowledge and experience through those two glass doors with a smile, and for once, it felt like it was really enough.

Exactly 13 minutes later, it was over. My breathing had regulated, my appetite had returned and it was time to step back, knowing I gave it my best shot and there was nothing more I could do.

The flight home brought sleep at last and a feeling of complacency with the day's events.

The reality of jobs is as cliché as it gets. Opportunity does knock only once in a while, and if you want it bad enough, you just might hear it.

Will I take over the fashion world this summer? Probably not. But the chance to sneak in the back door is worth every cent.

Petra Canan is a State News features reporter. She can be reached at cananpet@msu.edu.