Wide Eyed

I’m here to tell you the story of how I became a fashion designer. This is a story which I have summarized and share as I continue to gain new perceptions of what lead me here. I am a new fashion designer with wide eyes, and as dreams continue to unfold–in ten, even five years from now, I am sure this story will, again, be different. As it stands today, this is a story of empowerment, curiosity, and play.

For the sake of being transparent, I want to acknowledge the perseverance of my loved ones who, over the past few years, have experienced hardships I never knew possible. Through social movements of self love and acceptance, many of us are aware that life isn’t always magical or positive. This common challenge is part of life, and that stands for true for everyone. So as to be careful of glorifying this journey that I share today (albeit in many ways it was impeccably beautiful), it is important to note that my loved ones and I have bloomed through a torrential downpour of acid rain. Our world was all flourishing, crashing, and burning at the same time. Through it, it was the memories of dance and music which, like glue, were what held us together. As a result, I now believe that moments of positivity and hope gain prominence through an understanding of hardship.

I did not end up as a fashion designer because of a pair of scissors–although they rescued my costumes many times–but because of a plastic circle. I did not end up with that plastic circle without a love for music and people, and did not end up with that love if it were not for my mom. Hi mom! Confession: my mom is my best friend. I call her Jennifer because that’s her name. We were also roommates much longer than most American families while running a business together, so calling her by her name just makes sense.

There are countless life experiences which assisted in lighting the first flame of my fashion-fire, but this story starts when Jennifer brought my siblings and I to our first music festival. Like a child, I walked alongside my family into a world I had never seen before. This was a world of laughter, music, dance, love, and excitement. My senses were depleted of fear and drenched in curiosity. It was in this environment where I learned how to play again, and where I unlearned the fear of acceptance. It was in this environment where, for the first time, I had the sense I was completely free to be myself–whoever that may be–and to share compassion for others without question. I’d never experienced so much exchange of positive affirmations and love. For the first time in my life, I felt connected to myself and to the world. This wholesome comfort and excitement was enough fuel to encourage my dream-chase, and ultimately how I began pursuing opportunities as if they were connecting dots along my journey.

My family and I loved this festival so much. Like, more than even we can understand. We went year after year for eight years. Stimulation was everywhere. Lights, balloons, food, instruments, endless music, countless stages, thousands and thousands of people, and so, so many hula hoops. I’ll never forget the moment when I discovered the performer inside me. One year, my brother and I stood in front of a stage during an electronic music set, awe-inspired by the hula hoop dancer. When I said I wanted to try, he encouraged that I do right away. I picked up my first hula hoop that weekend and brought it with me everywhere I went from that day forward. I trained myself by analyzing the movement of other hoopers on YouTube and Instagram, by watching tutorials, and connecting with Maine's local circus community. After hooping with fire for the first time (while working as a Divemaster in Honduras) I began performing a year later. Two years later, I found myself performing on that very stage where I stood inspired next to my brother.

That hoop brought me, and I brought it to performances all around the nation. My travel bug was fulfilled and I was doing what made me happy as a freelance circus artist. When I joined various performance troupes and a local circus school, I witnessed my passion begin to transform: I started making costumes for myself and fellow performers, which quickly gained momentum.

Remember my inspired moment in front of that stage two years back? At this point in the story, we are three years ahead of that same date, at the same stage again. I was performing with a fellow entertainer who recognized my costume as reminiscent of the ones seen at the worlds largest music festival–Electric Daisy Carnival. He suggested I work for them, and even offered a connection. When the connection unfortunately fizzled, I did not stop there. Once the idea sunk into my mind, I was not going to give up, and so I sent an email to the entertainment director. Sending this email unraveled my next two years when I was unexpectedly traveling with and working for EDC in Orlando, California, Mexico, China, and Japan. For a small town girl, this was bigger than anything I could have imagined.

I was not designing costumes–my position with the crew was as a wardrobe assistant. While this was so special, so fun, and felt like the opportunity of a lifetime, I still had the itch to design. As a maker, I knew I could develop my design ideas, but my understanding of craft didn’t match the complexity of what I intended to make. I felt held back by this and wanted to pursue my craft to hopefully design for Electric Daisy Carnival, musicians, entertainment, or something of the like. Well, I forgot to tell you that through all this, I completed an associates degree in Communications at my local Maine community college. I was now ready to pursue another degree at Parsons in New York! And then I saw the price. One that I would be paying myself. Now, at this time, I was living with Jennifer as she was enduring treatments for breast cancer. It was a time when I needed to be home, out of love, and to plan my next step. So instead of Parsons, I applied to Maine’s local art school. This is where I would soon pursue the fine-tuning of my craft.

The feeling of walking into the fashion studio on our first day of lessons was one of empowerment, and one which affirmed my path to design. During this education in Textile and Fashion Design, I accumulated a bank of skills in craft that now come naturally through the persistence of repetition and thorough observation. (It was not easy at the beginning, and was not easy in the end, but ease does not always equal happiness.)

I have noticed that happiness earned from the design process is a result of the challenges I have faced, the questioning, the doubts, the acceptance of constructive criticism, and the experience of pushing myself even when I may have failed the same task twice before. This includes a sense of accomplishment when I can wear, observe, or touch what it is that I have made. I am happiest designing because I am handling and manipulating material which will become a tangible version of my wildest dreams while in conversation with the world. This is the gift of design.

In times of rest, reflection of the process also provides happiness: having learned how to produce something stronger the next time around, having learned an additional skill, having mastered a previously challenging skill, or having discovered something entirely new. These are all replenishing benefits of being a designer. This element of my life truly enhances every other part of being alive. I am also enthusiastic about both the process and product ultimately becoming a source of interaction with those who I love and am inspired by. I have experienced happiness unlike any other kind when it comes to the excitement of a new project where brainstorming, collaboration, and feedback exist.

As a post-graduate, I am pursuing my first opportunity as a designer with a fast fashion company. This is my first experience designing without handling production. I observe this new process and reflect on my education while feeling inspired by the future of the textile industry. As I enter the industry with the knowledge of fast fashion as being non-sustainable, I am contemplating how I can help pioneer beneficial changes in one of the worlds longest living and largest industries.

While we are at the end of this story, I stand at the beginning of mine. The kindling of my past has set my present fashion fire ablaze, where I stand smiling, and with lust for the future of fashion. I ask myself with excitement–who will I meet? Where will I go? What will I make? Questions which can only be answered as I continue to walk this path, which is ablaze with passion, and showered in the gardens of my past, present, and future.