HENRY DIARIES: Meet Adrian - The NYC Fashion Guy Making $160K
He designs the shoes rich men stomp around in, but one wrong brunch bill could emotionally bankrupt him.
7:06 AM - Waking Up in a Soho Dior Campaign (Basically)
Adrian wakes up in his SoHo loft - the kind of loft you only get if you a) have money or b) pretend you do. He’s option A… but feels like a Capital B.
Sunlight spills across:
concrete floors
a single monstera plant named “Robert”
his collection of shoes arranged like a museum exhibit
He stretches. Adjusts his ridiculously soft robe (a “gift” from a stylist - i.e., a write-off). Puts in his AirPods and plays a playlist called “Main Character, But Tired.”
He walks into his kitchen, makes an espresso, and stares out the window like he’s contemplating the downfall of Western civilization. Really, he’s thinking:
“Do I look like someone who should have more money than I do?”
8:12 AM - Closet Time: The Hunger Games (NYC Edition)
He opens his closet.
It’s:
black
expensive
intimidating
aspirational
financially daring
He picks today’s fit:
cashmere turtleneck
structured coat so beautiful it deserves its own trust fund
trousers the color of existentialism
his own designer boots (duh)
He checks the mirror.
He looks like - an art director, a villain in a spy movie, and a man who would absolutely cry if someone scuffed his boots.
He feels powerful. He also feels broke.
9:03 AM - Walk to Work: The Catwalk He Pretends Isn’t a Catwalk
He struts down Prince Street.
A tourist takes a photo of him. He pretends not to notice. He totally notices.
He stops for a matcha he doesn’t need ($8.25 — disrespectful). Then a croissant he will later hate himself for because he’s trying to be “soft lean, not shredded lean.”
He checks his AmEx app. It loads like a horror movie. He closes it. He’ll deal with that later (he won’t).
9:28 AM - Entering the Studio Like He Owns It (He Doesn’t)
He walks into his design studio:
leather swatches everywhere
interns who dress better than emotionally stable people
sketches pinned to mood boards like crime evidence
his boss already pacing like a caffeinated panther
Today: footwear review + influencer fittings + a pitch call with Milan.
He puts down his tote. Logs in. Puts on his “genius at work, do not disturb unless you’re hot” face.
And immediately gets dragged into a conversation about why the quarter-inch difference in heel height is ruining the entire silhouette.
Fashion is war. Adrian is a decorated soldier.
11:16 AM - Retail Drive-By (The Most Dangerous Habit He Has)
He runs out to grab something to eat.
He accidentally walks into a boutique. The universe put it there. He didn’t choose this life.
A jacket glimmers under a spotlight.
He touches it. He caresses it. He inhales dramatically.
The sales associate materializes like a ghost:
“Limited drop. Last one.”
Five minutes later, Adrian leaves with a garment bag and shame.
Price: $1,850. Emotion: justified. Financial situation: why, God, why.
12:40 PM - Lunch With His Fashion Friends (Expensive Therapy Hour)
He meets his two best friends at a Nolita restaurant where:
all chairs wobble
the forks are vintage
the waitstaff looks editorial
the menu is $27 for a salad with no personality
They gossip. They judge people. They debate which celebrities have “quiet rich” vs “loud rich” energy.
Then the bill hits: More than his mother’s groceries for the month.
He doesn’t flinch. He taps the card. He dies slightly inside.
2:15 PM - Design Mode: His Superpower
Back at work, Adrian enters his zone.
He sketches. He edits. He critiques. He moves with the confidence of someone who knows the exact right angle of a pointed toe.
His team watches. Adrian thrives off their awe. He needs this validation like oxygen.
This is the part of his life he’s certain about.
Design? He’s brilliant. Money? Less brilliant.
4:57 PM - The Meeting From Hell
A founder Zooms in from Milan. Bad Wi-Fi. Big ego. Larger sunglasses.
They argue about leather grain direction. He threatens to cancel the entire line over “vibe inconsistency.”
Adrian holds it together like the professional he is. Internally? He’s throwing chairs.
When the call ends, his coworker whispers, “Fashion people are unhinged.”
Adrian replies, “Thank you. I needed that.”
6:10 PM - Evening Walk: The Most Dangerous Part of His Wallet’s Day
SoHo at dusk is a trap.
He passes:
a gallery opening (free wine)
a boutique (danger)
a tailor (temptation)
a parfumerie (absolute doom)
He tells himself: Do NOT walk in. Do NOT spend. You’re done for the day.
He walks in anyway. Buys a candle that smells like “Do Not Date Him.”
$74.
Worth it.
7:45 PM - Drinks With the Boys (They’re All Hot)
At a rooftop bar in LES, the drinks are $19 and the outfits are louder than the music.
His friends all look like Vogue interns. He looks like their emotionally stable manager.
They talk:
fashion week chaos
dating disasters
rich people behaving badly
his boss’s meltdown
whether Paris is calling them spiritually
They drag him lovingly about his spending habits.
“You shop like you’re trying to manifest tax brackets you haven’t reached.”
He clinks his glass anyway.
He’s delusional. He’s self-aware. He’s happy.
10:11 PM - The Walk Home: The Crash After the Couture High
He heads home through SoHo’s quiet streets.
He sees:
a couple fighting about rent
a man crying over a Citi Bike
someone photographing their dog like a Calvin Klein ad
He loves this city. He hates how much it costs to exist here.
He thinks: “I make $160K… why does it feel like enough and not enough at the same time?”
He knows the answer. He just hasn’t said it out loud yet.
11:03 PM - The HENRY Moment
He gets home. Kicks off his boots like a king coming off the battlefield. Pours a glass of wine he bought because the label was pretty.
He sits. Exhales. Looks around his apartment.
His life looks rich. Stylish. Curated. Aesthetic.
But the financial clarity? Nonexistent.
He whispers:
“I can design the perfect shoe…
Why can’t I design a financially sane life?”
This is the HENRY realization.
Not broke. Not rich. Stuck in the middle wearing Prada.
He doesn’t need more hustle. He needs a plan.
A real one.
One that makes his lifestyle sustainable, not stressful.
One that makes his bank account as elegant as his wardrobe.
One that stops the cycle of “I can afford this emotionally,” but “Should I afford this financially?”
He closes his eyes.
Tomorrow will be another day of being iconic and financially confused.
But tonight? He admits it to himself:
He needs help. Actual help. Not a mood board. Not a bonus.
A plan.
