An Innocent Fashion

If The Devil Wears Prada collided with The Bell Jar in a literary particle accelerator, R. J. Hernandez's darkly funny fiction debut would be the result. Newly-minted Yale graduate Ethan St. James starts his first "real world" summer on the verge of realizing his Big Dream: working at the fashion magazine Regine. But just a few months later, he's on the roof of his boss's fancy apartment building, fighting the urge to jump. What happened? An Innocent Fashion, told from Ethan's POV, is the answer. Born Elian San Jamar, Ethan knows from childhood that he is different-intelligent, sensitive, and aesthetically refined-and destined for a better life than the one his American mother and Mexican father share in Corpus Christi, Texas. His ambitions crystallize when, one day in a local nail salon, he discovers Regine magazine. A full ride to Yale is his ticket to the glamorous, privileged world he's been dreaming about, one that forms an intense and decadent backdrop to his sexual and social awakening. Inseperable from his two best friends, Madeline and Dorian, who are beautiful scions of wealthy WASP families, Ethan reinvents himself. But can he fake it until he makes it? His doubts begin when he arrives at Regine and confronts the banal reality of life on the lowest rung of the ladder. With his pitch-perfect portrayal of intern/entry-level exploitation, a rite of passage many Gen X-ers and millenials have unhappily endured, he delivers a sharply observed, often hilarious take-down of the magazine and fashion industry. As the threads of Ethan's childhood, cloistered collegiate experience, and current quarter-life crisis (sexual, professional, intellectual) braid together, they pull him towards a disturbing truth-you can follow your dreams, but sometimes dreams alone are not enough. In his naivete we see our younger selves, fueled by big ambitions built on expensive degrees; in his disillusionment we see the utter absurdity and arbitrariness of the modern workplace; and in his unravelling we recognize our own hard-won understanding that not everyone can be the best and the brightest.