The Not So Glamorous Life of a Fashion Designer Who Never Really Cared About Glamour in the First Place

I looked like a boy.

Granted, at age 8, this was highly intentional but nonetheless I was a girl choosing to wear exclusively boys’ clothing. I was deemed the token weird kid in my grade. As a child I loved playing basketball, my favorite color was blue, however stereotypical that is, and picking up worms or frogs when found was something I genuinely looked forward to. Frankly, to this day I still fight the urge deep, deep inside me to pick up a frog when I spot one, but alas, that’s an entirely different story. Bringing it back to the point, I struggled a lot when I was a kid. I couldn’t keep friends for more than a school year, I constantly felt like an outcast, and the comments made about my appearance weren’t always easy to ignore. But most of all I couldn’t, for the life of me, understand why I was expected to wear dresses and skirts and flowery things and ruffles and LIKE THE COLOR PINK. Why was that considered “normal” for a girl but my basketball shorts and oversized t-shirt weren’t? Ack. In all honesty, I’ve only recently warmed up to some of those things at age 25. I still rock oversized shorts and t-shirts on occasion though.

One day, and I can’t tell you exactly what happened or what caused me to have this truly life altering epiphany, but I realized there was a way I could appear more “girly” while still keeping key elements of my tomboyish style. I could simply design my own freaking clothing! This was a fairly ambitious endeavor for my 8 year old self, and to be honest, I was still years away from being able to make my own garments, but I started drawing. I would draw these itty bitty 4 inch figures with clothing that I could picture myself in, that would make me comfortable and, if I dare say, even feel confident in. This sparked something in me. From then on, I knew I was going to be a fashion designer. Those little figures brought me so much happiness. Even if I couldn’t afford the materials or didn’t know how to make what I had drawn, I knew that my ideas, my 2D garments, were proof that I could fit in. I could feel good in my own skin. This was so important.

At the first chance I got, I enrolled in sewing classes.

Called “Fashion Boot Camp”, the program consisted of two weeks during the summer filled to the brim with sewing, draping, and fashion drawing classes. In preparation, I bought my first pair of scissors and equipped myself with a yard of fabric. It was at this camp that I first sewed a full garment together by myself and learned how to draw a figure at least twice the size of the one I had been previously drawing. Let me tell you, this was a game changer. For one, I could now actually see the details of the garment I was drawing and although I DEFINITELY needed more practice, I felt confident enough to sew together garments of my own at home. If you asked me, this was pivotal. I could try and make whatever I wanted. I finally came to a point where I’d have this idea in my head and that could be translated into a sketch, which I could then translate to a real life, physical garment. I was ecstatic. If you asked my parents, they would also say this was pivotal. Both for the reason above but also because they were forced to become much more aware of where they stepped in our house in fear of pins going through the bottoms of their feet. We’ve all become immune to small pricks.

Fast forward to high school. With a few years of Fashion Boot Camp under my belt, I was feeling more assured than ever with my career choice. I was day dreaming of having my own fashion show. I was making my prom dress, making classmates' prom dresses, just making garments for people in general. I joined a new charter school within my district aimed towards fine arts. With a little persuasion and then a lot of support from my parents, I was the first student to specialize in fashion design there. Whatever subject I took, if I could prove it somehow applied to the class, I could incorporate fashion into anything I wanted. The cherry on top of the cake was being fortunate enough to create my first collection as my senior portfolio project. It was such a huge accomplishment in my eyes. I was over the moon watching my garments come to life as they walked down the runway. This was my happiness in its most pure form. Here’s the thing. When reflecting on my collection, the prom dresses I made, even the one off vacation outfits that were randomly requested, I realized that happiness didn’t just stop at me. The grins and the hugs I received from the recipients of my garments told me something else. What I make, which brings me happiness in the process, also brings happiness to someone else. How cool is that?

For the sake of keeping your attention and hopefully writing a perfect-length piece, I am going to gloss over the next few years after high school. At 18, I moved to New York City, attended the Fashion Institute of Technology, majored in Fashion Design, for two years specialized in knitwear, graduated, and got a job in the fashion industry. I learned so much invaluable information during my college years as well as during my time working as a design assistant. I have achieved nearly every goal I set out for thus far. I should be happy, right? This is always what I’ve wanted to do. They say if you love what you do, you never work a day in your life. But what happens when what you love to do doesn’t end up being what you thought it was? In the three years at my current job, I don’t think I’ve picked up a pair of scissors or cut a yard of fabric once. This is something I’ve been struggling with. I started designing because I loved the process of researching, sketching ideas, figuring out how to pattern or drape said ideas, sewing together a garment and handing it off to someone who is thrilled to have a one of a kind piece that speaks to them or represents who they are. It feels like the industry I was so excited to be a part of has reduced my creativity and passion to mere numbers and sales. Don’t get me wrong, being able to sell what you make is extremely important. But ask me how many garments I’ve seen “designed” in the industry that are actually original and not just a complete knock off of someone else's idea. The answer, I can assure you, is very disappointing. In turn, I have become very disappointed.

What’s also disappointing (I am completely switching topics here but I swear it’ll come back around) is that we all lived through a pandemic this past year and a half. Some of our lives were completely interrupted, some of us lost loved ones, we’ve had to adapt and change what our “norms” are. I, for one, went from working in an office full time, living in my own apartment, feeling very independent, to moving in with my boyfriend and his entire family and depending on them to go anywhere or to do most things. I slept in the same room I worked out in, which was the same room I had my work computer in, which is where I also ate a majority of my meals. For 5 months, I probably spent 80% of my life in that 12’x12’ room. By all means, I cannot for a second argue that I had it bad. In fact, I would argue a lot of people were much worse off than I. But this time period really negatively affected my mental health. I was constantly in fear of losing my job. I was unable to see my family back home in Wisconsin. In fact, I didn’t really see anyone at all. I was by myself a majority of the time and I just felt lost. I felt a constant sense of impending doom, as I’m sure a lot of other people did as well. I felt like I was losing a grasp of who I was. Heather. I didn’t know what to do.

Thankfully, or maybe not depending on how you look at the situation, face masks were sold out. Gone. Everywhere. So what does one do? Buy a handmade one from someone else or make your own. We decided to make our own. This was when I learned my boyfriend’s mom owned a sewing machine. I hadn’t laid eyes on one of those bad boys in nearly two years. Neurons started immediately firing off in my brain. If I could just manage to get back to my apartment for even a few hours, I knew I could find some fabric, pattern paper, and my toolbox filled with sewing essentials to bring back. I was lucky enough to be able to do just that. The next week consisted of patterning, cutting out my fabric, and sewing together the first dress I had made in what felt like eons. I was a little rusty, however that semi poorly put together dress completely opened the floodgates to my creativity. I couldn’t get enough. I used all the spare fabric I had and ultimately ended up learning how to crochet and read hand knitting patterns because while I couldn’t buy fabric, I could get my hands on yarn. I kept creating and creating and creating. Can’t stop, won’t stop became my motto. I experimented with painting on tulle, crocheting full sized blankets, literally anything my mind could think of, I went for. There was no such thing as a stupid idea. I made some cool things, I made some ugly things, I made some things that were so ugly that they were cool. And I realized, although the situation was far from perfect, I was gifted with this blessing in disguise. I was given back the happiness and passion I felt when I first stumbled upon design nearly two decades ago.

Quarantine helped me learn why I love sewing garments, why it brings me so much happiness. I dread being told what to make at work just for it to be sold wholesale, worn for a few seasons, and then thrown away or donated. There is very little that is fulfilling about that. It’s the same thing over and over again, it’s the same wasteful cycle and frankly it does the opposite of giving me happiness. On the other hand, designing or sewing anything, both for me and especially for others, makes me happy and feeds my soul because there is some purpose behind it. I have the ability of making other people feel confident, comfortable and happy in their own skin. I now have the ability of being able to do that for myself too.

Designing, sewing, knitting, or what have you doesn’t only make me happy, although this is a massive part of why I create garments. Being able to make clothing helps me nurture my brain when it isn’t feeling its best. It allows me to bring happiness to someone else. It has the potential to make an 8 year old look at what I’ve created and feel like they can be included, that they don’t necessarily need to fit in a box. Heck, I hope to be able to make anyone feel that way. Ultimately, if you want to understand the process behind what I create, you need to understand that it doesn’t just start with an idea or a sketch. By this point it may be more subconscious, but it always starts with keeping in mind little Heather and why she began designing in the first place. It starts with the intention of making something that might be kind of ugly or weird or eclectic to what the fashion industry thinks. But someone who might not fit the norm looks at it and says, “Awesome, I would definitely wear that''. Once you understand this key element to my creative process, everything after that is easy peasy. It’s plainly making my ideas come to life.

After rereading that last sentence, I realize maybe it isn’t so plain. I think I owe more of an explanation. Whenever I create anything, I try to make an effort to take something that could be simple or plain or, in my opinion, kind of boring and turn it into something fun. Juxtapositions, mixing feminine with masculine, color blocking, print blocking, playing with shapes and proportions are all things I love. The two garments pictured are two of my most recent projects. I chose to share these two in particular, because they incorporate some of my favorite elements plus I feel confident and excited every time I wear them.

While surfing the interwebs, I saw bandana everything everywhere. This is where the inspiration started. On an unrelated note, I also love dresses. I like that there’s an endless amount of dress variations. That being said, wearing a dress also means I only have to pick out one garment when getting dressed in the morning. Ultimately, I decided I was going to make a dress out of bandanas. But I couldn’t just stop there. I needed to make it a little cooler, maybe a little more grungy. So while my boyfriend’s sister was going through a phase of tie-dyeing nearly everything, I joined. My liquid of choice was bleach, however. After bleaching the bandanas, I needed to choose a silhouette for the dress. I landed on a babydoll type dress with a square neckline and puff sleeves. The feminine silhouette with the grungy fabrication created a garment that could be worn with combat boots, my preference, or sneakers and give a completely different vibe. Depending on how it is styled, it could look a little tomboyish or super feminine. This is what I love. Once the idea was very quickly sketched out, it was onto cutting and sewing! The skirt was easy, I just had to sew together squares and gather it at the top. The bodice was a little more tricky but nothing my dress form, Sandy, and I couldn’t overcome. Together, we formed and cut out the bodice in muslin to fit, made some adjustments, then went straight to cutting the final fabric. This is a dress I could and will wear every week to work.

Quarantine came with the explosion of TikTok, something my boyfriend’s sister also was wildly entertained with. This resulted in her sending me videos of people crocheting and recreating the famous Harry Styles Cardigan. This was actually a cardigan designed by J.W. Anderson, who ended up releasing his knit pattern, for free I might add, for this particular design. I saw the pattern and was like, challenge accepted. In all honesty, that was it. That was the extent of my inspiration. I find that sometimes I choose to make things because the process of actually cutting and sewing fabric, or in this case, picking up knitting needles and knitting for hours on end, is what brings me happiness, not just the final product. Being able to focus on one thing and watch as my knit fabric grows brings me joy because it’s physical proof of my productivity. That being said, I also adore the final product too. I took some creative liberties and changed the colors, gauge of the knit, and placket/collar construction but overall I knitted something I love wearing. It is quite oversized, but is so cozy. Plus how can you put this on and not grin from ear to ear solely because of the bright colors? I think this is one of those things that is kind of ugly but in a cool way. This is also one of the main reasons it’s my favorite sweater to wear. Everyone needs a good grandpa sweater, mine just happens to be massive.

Ultimately this prompt is about happiness and something I create that brings me happiness. I’ve also given you my life story, a two for one, one might say. I am still in the midst of figuring out my exact design process, personal style, etc. however this whole journey has helped me learn some things about myself. I love what I do and I want to make a difference. I want to be able to help out others through my passion, something that makes ME insanely happy. I want to establish my own business to start making these much needed changes in the fashion industry. I still have so much more to accomplish, an entirely new set of goals even. This isn’t just a dream anymore. I will make this my reality.

I think 8 year old Heather would be proud of me.