From Luxury Marketing to Bank of America IBD (Consumer, New York) — A Non-Traditional Path to Investment Banking
Preface

At 15, I left home to attend high school in the United States.
At the time, my path felt clear. I majored in Psychology during undergrad and spent most of my time in clinical research. I had always assumed I would pursue a PhD and become a clinical psychologist.
It was a well-defined path.
Safe. Respectable.
Only later did I realize that many “certain” choices feel that way simply because you haven’t yet encountered other possibilities.
Candidate Background
School: U.S. Top 7 Business School (Magic Seven)
Program: MBA (Finance Track)
Preparation Timeline: Summer before MBA
Offer: Bank of America IBD Summer Associate, New York (Consumer Team)
Mentor Commentary
Some things feel almost predetermined.
On July 1, 2025, I remember receiving a message on RedNote:
“Natasha, I think I live in the same building as you—we’re in the same neighborhood!”
That was how it started.
We signed the contract that same day. She quickly became not just a mentee, but a close friend. We had both attended Wharton for undergrad, and she was about to start her MBA. From our very first conversation, there was an immediate sense of familiarity.
We began in-person sessions the very next day—meeting at the café downstairs, or on the rooftop of my building. On days when I looked particularly exhausted, she would even bring me moxibustion patches from China.
At the beginning, she was uncertain. She didn’t have a clear sense of what recruiting during an MBA would actually look like. Having just graduated from Wharton MBA myself, I knew how intense the first semester would be.
We had to lock in a recruiting direction before school started. Otherwise, once the semester began, recruiting would hit all at once—investment management, tech, investment banking, PE/VC—and trying to pursue multiple tracks simultaneously is nearly impossible.


Her background was in luxury, which naturally positioned her well for private banking. I connected her with friends in private banking in New York so she could gain a realistic understanding of the role. She was genuinely interested. However, I knew that private banking in North America rarely sponsors international candidates.
It wasn’t a viable path.
So we made the decision to pursue investment banking, fully aware of how difficult that road would be.
MBA recruiting is fundamentally different from undergraduate recruiting. You go through multiple rounds of invite-only coffee chats before even earning an interview. At a top business school, your competition is your peers. Firms are selecting from among the strongest candidates in the world.
She pushed through.
Working with an IBD technical mentor (Vice President at Goldman Sachs, New York), she went through an intense process—building from zero, grinding technicals, and running mock interviews repeatedly.
I could see the toll it took on her through video calls. It was difficult to watch. But it was also unavoidable.
Rejections became routine. No Morgan Stanley invite-only. No progression with Goldman Sachs. Anyone who has gone through recruiting understands that kind of disappointment.
I remember telling her very directly one day:
“I think you’ll land at Bank of America. Their collaborative culture fits you better. GS and MS might be too aggressive for your style.”
Those months were difficult in ways only she can fully describe. As mentors, all we could do was stay by her side—supporting her, pushing her forward.
The phrase I repeated most often was:
“Keep going. January is coming. You’re almost there.”
Then January 2026 arrived. Superday.
Before her Bank of America interviews, we did one final mock. At that moment, I could see the transformation clearly.
From being tentative in her first mock interviews to now speaking with confidence—handling technicals, deal discussions, and behavioral questions with composure.
I was incredibly proud.
Then came the message:
“BofA offer call!!!!!”
There are no words to fully describe that moment.
Over the past six months, I was fortunate to stand alongside her—to support her, and to witness her growth.

Candidate Story
From Fashion to Finance
In my junior year, I was introduced to fashion almost by accident.
It wasn’t a carefully planned decision. It felt more like instinct. I had a sense that if I didn’t try, I would regret it.
So I stepped into an entirely different world.
After graduation, I joined a luxury group and worked across functions—Marketing, PR, Events, BD, Retail Management, CRM.
That experience gave me a great deal. But it also left me with a very clear gap: I lacked a financial foundation.
I understood brands. I understood people. I could execute. But when problems became more structural, more analytical, I found myself stuck.
The feeling was specific—like standing at the door, without a key.
I explored lateral moves into banking, but reality was straightforward. Even from a target school, with a non-finance background, there was no clear path.
So I made a decision:
Start from zero.
CFA was my first real exposure to finance as a system. The process of breaking down a complex framework and gradually mastering it was deeply satisfying.

The Turning Point
The real turning point came when I met Natasha.
I came across her on Xiaohongshu. I didn’t overthink it—I just felt that I wanted to speak with her.
During our first call, I had a very strong impression: she was truly listening—and understanding.
She didn’t rush to give advice. Instead, she asked questions.
One question stayed with me:
“Of everything you’re doing now, what is the one thing you’re not willing to give up?”
I paused. I had never thought about it that way.
I had always been focused on “what’s next,” but not on what I was actually holding onto.
In that moment, I realized many of my past decisions had simply followed a path, rather than coming from clarity.
She helped me piece together what had once felt like disconnected experiences. They were not separate—they formed a whole.
Each piece had its place.
Over time, I understood what made her effective. It wasn’t that she always had the answers.
It was that she knew when not to give one.
She never forced me into a template. Instead, she helped me find my own way of thinking and expressing.
The Grind
The next four months were relentless.
Technicals. Behavioral. Mock interviews. Round after round.
We lived close to each other, so many sessions were in person.
There was one time I got completely stuck on a question. The more I practiced, the worse it felt. I started questioning whether I was even suited for this path.
That day, I showed up in a terrible state. Halfway through answering, I stopped.
She didn’t interrupt.
She waited, then asked:
“Are you thinking about how to answer, or are you thinking about whether you might be wrong?”
Everything went quiet.
I realized I wasn’t incapable—I was afraid.
Moments like this happened many times. Whenever I felt overwhelmed, a short conversation with her would bring me back—not because every problem was solved, but because I had regained my footing.
Gradually, I learned how to articulate myself.
Superday
On the morning of Superday, I reached out for one final mock. Time was tight, but she still made it work.
After I finished, she looked at me and said:
“You’re completely different from four months ago.”
Then she asked me to reflect on the path I had taken—the obstacles I had already overcome.
Light has already passed through ten thousand mountains.
At the end, she said only one thing:
“Enjoy it. Just be yourself.”
In that moment, everything settled.
When I walked into the interview room, I wasn’t trying to perform. I wasn’t trying to prove anything.
I even made a conscious effort to let go of what I had prepared.
Later, I realized that state didn’t come from that morning. It was built over months—through repeated conversations, deep reflection, and gradual clarity.



Looking Back
Looking back now, this journey is difficult to describe as simply a “career switch.”
It was more a process of alignment.
From following what seemed like the “right path,” to exploring uncertainty, to gradually understanding what truly mattered to me.
Some directions are clear from the beginning. Others only become clear after you’ve already started walking.
I think I belonged to the latter.
And in hindsight, that’s perfectly fine.
