Sigh.

Have any idea where these are from?

Want to guess what I want? Those. THOSE THOSE THOSE THOSE THOSE.

I've been having a real boy-meets-girl fixation right now. You know, flowing dresses under thick sweaters with clunky boots with socks. This was probably brought on by the J. Crew catalog that I've also been a bit focused on.

Well, the boots are basically everything I want wrapped up into a pair of shoes. The socks, the leather, and the rubber sole all scream masculine, but then contrast with the height makes me swoon. I've been staring at it for who knows how long. The only thing that's stopping me is the price. $258. Sigh. I suppose that will have to be a Christmas ask-for- gift, which is far too much time to wait for my comfort---even though they've already put up the Christmas decorations in the mall. (Ridiculous, no?)

I do

OK, sorry I haven't posted in a really long time because.... I don't know, I just haven't. I've basically been living under a rock and I've had no inspiration. That's about it.

So let us return to the blogging by talking about me and my needs!

I've found my wedding ring, again. From where, you ask? Tiffany's, of course!

And let me tell you, when I am proposed to, (if, that is, I am), I am going to need to see the ring first, because that is simply how it works for me. And I would like at least 1 and 1/2 carats, please. With the band, it's about $25,000, but I still want it. And I will have it or I will buy it for myself and make up an imaginary husband.

I also am strangely fond of this J.Crew dress. It's gorgeous, and I usually wouldn't go for that sort of thing, but I find myself slightly transfixed. I think it's because of the tiered affect of the skirt, and the neckline, and the lace. The softness, you know.

The softness is also in her hair, and her face, because she's like, "Oh! Me? You're taking my picture? Well I better pose and smile with my eyes just like Tyra taught me to!"

Speaking of hair, I miss mine, and don't make fun of me or say I told you so, because it's not that I didn't like my hair, because it was clearly fabulous, but I just miss something to play with in math class. But then when I really have nothing else to do, I feel badly about growing it out because I feel like I'm conforming. And I hate conforming. Hate beyond hate, because you know that every single girl has long hair. It's not because I want to look like other people, I just want long hair. If they all had short hair, then I'd still want long hair.

So that's my little inner conflict for the day. It's very important, I know.

A Confession

Fashion and I have been going through a rough patch lately. I've been disloyal and untrue to it. You could almost compare it to a teenage rebellion, but then you can't because that would be totally off. It's very difficult, you know, getting everything balanced, with the school and the sports and the everything else... that fashion's kind- of been forgotten, or fallen by the wayside, or whichever analogy you please, it just makes me very upset when I think about it. I haven't even had enough time to finish reading The Little Dictionary of Fashion by Christian Dior, (I'm only on F!) which I got for my birthday and couldn't be more excited about. I also have started bringing only Burt's Bees to school instead of my usual lipstick which shows things are really getting out of hand.

I'm still in that 50's-early 60's thing though, and don't you dare ask me to come out of it, because I'm happy here, and I don't want to go anywhere else anytime soon. I'm going to start doing this whole thing again with the blogging, but don't take it for a second as total honestly, because you know I'll have torrential amounts of homework tomorrow just because I said this.

Here's some more of my 50's obsession thing, if you haven't gotten sick of it yet. (If, that is, you're still there at all)

(Louis Vuitton ad, Anne Taintor magnet, Vogue's Magnificent Obsession, Prada shoe, Mad Men, more Vogue, Breakfast at Tiffany's)

{untitled}

Hello.

I've been terribly lazy lately, and there weren't any sort of postings, but I'm NOT going to do that anymore. I pinky-promised myself, if you'll believe it. But right now, I think I have some oddly abstract case of blogging block (see how clever, like writers block...) and so you see, I don't really know what to write because there are probably eight hundred thousand things that I could say.

It was my birthday on Monday. YAAAAAAAAAAAY. I don't feel older or wiser at all now that I'm fourteen. In fact, I feel more immature, because Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part one comes out November 19th and I can't go anymore than 45 minutes without reminding some poor bystander about it. (That works out to at least once per class period.)

I haven't even the slightest inclination as to what to write next, so I think it would be wise to recap on the Project Runway I missed and get back to this tomorrow.

timeless

I Am Still Shaking

Today was a rather major day for yours truly. I attended Alexander Wang’s fashion show, and before you get some sort of impression that I am well connected, I will tell you that the only reason I got into the show is because my dad manages the building it was held in (Pier 94). I stood, but that’s still beyond marvelous because I was there!

As I don’t have anything from Alexander Wang and it was doubtful anyone would care, I decided to go for a textural bonanza. The peacock feather headband was bought off the street in New York, I spent all my money on that faux- fur jacket from Anthropologie last week, the top is DKNY, I made the shorts, the shoes are Kenzie, and the crocodile bag is vintage.

We saw Andrew from Kell on Earth, the Bravo show about the fashion PR agency. You watched it. At first we (being my mother and I) weren’t sure it was he, but then we saw the hardware bracelets and I knew it was. He is so fabulously Goth and extremely tall. I took this photo from the back (creeper style) before I was sure he was opposed to talking to the common folk. Then I got this picture with him and my mom. He actually is surprisingly nice.

Before the show I also met Alexander Wang’s brother and the CFO of this company. Dennis. He was really polite but I couldn’t talk around him because when I’m nervous I do that, but I did shake his hand.

The show was something. I could see fairly well behind the short people that he is back to deconstruction, there were a lot of cut outs in loose white canvas dresses and pants. Bits of it reminded me of carpenter's clothes, which was helped along by the worker-esqe boots and the 'paint splatter' on both the clothes and in the hair. There were also metallics, and a few sweaters/jackets that made me very pleased. It was far happier than I thought it would be.

I didn't take proper pictures because of my view but here are the ones from the interweb.

I also just about peed myself when I saw that, directly in front of me (in the front row), was The Andre Leon Talley and Grace Coddington. Andre is so much more fabulous in person, and bigger. I swear he was over seven feet tall. Grace has this elegance to her that you can just feel, even fifteen feet away. I got these stalker shots from the back, and then my mother chased Mr. Talley, telling him that he looked gorgeous, and got this picture. I love it.

And then. The unthinkable happened. (If that was unthinkable enough for you) Just as we were walking back from the show, whom did we see but Bradley. FROM THE RACHEAL ZOE PROJECT!!!!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME, WORLD???? I just about died, right there. He was so so so nice to us. I, of course geeked out and couldn’t speak, except to tell him my name after I remembered, but we took this. He is so gorgeous I cannot even BEGIN to tell you.

And then, like in a movie (I keep replaying it in my head) THE RACHEL ZOE and RODGER walked up and were like “Yeah Brad, you’re so gorgeous,” because I think my mother said that to him, but I’d temporarily lost my hearing, so I’m not sure. She was wearing a baggy, navy blue jumpsuit and berry lipstick (which I died for). I wanted to stop them to get a picture too, but I’d also lost the ability to speak.

It was very euphoric, actually being there, so much more than watching it online, I felt like I was in a bit of a daze afterwards. Perhaps I was high off fashion.

Watching too much Rachel Zoe leaves you saying things like 'Those shoes are MAJOR!" in everyday context. This is why I'm not ready for school.

In my wildest Louis Vuitton Fall 2010 fantasies, I wear either these Prada shoes or the Louis Vuittons. Sometimes, there's a Louis on one foot and a Prada on the other.

Also, high school begins tomorrow. This is very meh because for THE FOURTH YEAR IN A ROW I have not received my Hogwarts letter. Tomorrow will be another year, watching the clock for when the Hogwarts Express leaves without me.... again.

And don't make fun of me because you know you secretly cried when you didn't get your letter.

Dear Marc Jacobs,

Thank you, thank you, thank you for your Fall 2010 ready-to-wear collection for Louis Vuitton. I can tell you quite honestly that I have never loved anything else with such intensity. It is something that we so desperately need in these times, femininity! You see, I’ve been agonizing over these ridiculous utilitarian and rock n’ roll and gothic and really just trends with no softness. It was like everyone had forgotten about the beauty in such classic glamour, about what women are supposed to look like: beautiful. It seemed for a moment there that feminine and delicacy was mistaken for weakness, while everyone stomped about in their leather pants and platform over-the-knee boots. But it’s not! You shouldn’t have to be dressed so hard and severe to be seen as strong! To the contrary, your gorgeous clothing portrays nothing if not strength in a woman! We shouldn’t have to dress like men to appear to be equal; we should dress like women and be exceedingly better! So I thank you for reminding us of that.

I also love love love love the 50’s inspiration, so ladylike. There wasn’t a skirt above the knee in that entire collection, (much less pants) yet it was so sexy without being vulgar. It highlighted the best parts of a woman, and cleverly disguised the rest. It showed women how they really are, with curves. Most of us don’t look like teenage boys, and it’s refreshing to see someone design for that part of the population.

And by the way, I also taped every single one of the 54 looks in that collection (55 if you include the photo of you on the runway) to my wall so I can stare at it for hours on end without my computer dying.

And the ad campaign is so beautiful I could cry.

Also, I love you.

Always,

Drew

A Randsom Note To Fall

and so it has begun.

Let me tell you, I am not an exceptional artist, nor have I ever been. I’ve never considered myself to be that way and I have never really explored that side. I’ve never had much hope for improving my art skills; I thought it was more of a gift you were born with, hardly something that you could manipulate. “Then,” I’ve asked myself, “why would you want to go into an industry that you are clearly not cut out for? How would you stand out amongst the talented?” “I wouldn’t,” I responded. Talking to myself is often more productive than talking to other people because I am the only one whose answer I truly accept.

So I thought maybe I’d go into something else, something still revolving around fashion, as I love it, but maybe not so involved in the creative process. A job at a fashion magazine or something, I thought. But then I watch Project Runway and I’m so utterly inspired that I don’t think that there could be anything else more appealing. And then I would try drawing, just to see, you know, and I Fail with a capital F. I wish I had some of those drawings left to show you, so you could see the failure. It was pretty mind-boggling.

So when my Christmas present last year was fashion design camp at Parsons, I was out of my head excited, who wouldn’t be, but I thought it would be more of an experience to know the industry a bit better through design. I knew I would learn tons about design, but I was set against being totally creative because, honestly, I was scared of it. It was something I wasn’t sure of, something different.

This brings me to Parsons. On the first day, which began with orientation, I was nervous out of my mind. Like, difficult to be around nervous. I bit off every single one of my nails by 7 am, and mind you, I only woke up at 5:30. (Which was, if I had to give the worst part of Parsons, the worst part. I am not a morning person and waking up at 5:30 every morning for two weeks did not do good things to me.) We basically just got our classroom assignments and such during this time.

And let me just tell you that Parsons has quite a few classes. Ignorant as I was, I thought it would be mainly fashion. I was wrong, they had everything from portfolio design to architecture, but I didn’t really see much of that because there are a lot of buildings. The course I took was Fashion Drawing and Design, Sr. The senior part just meant grades 9-12, but I was the only thirteen year old. It was intimidating. A lot of the other girls clearly had years of experience and would be applying to fashion colleges this year. I carried all my new art supplies around in a plastic bag.

Once we actually got into the respective classrooms, the first thing our teacher, Julian, showed us was the drawings from his college students (he teaches in the BFA program at Parsons). They were astonishing. I was hard for me to understand how it was possible for people to make something so amazing in only sophomore year.

Then came the drawing.

Julian told us to draw a human figure, plain and simple. This was petrifying. Don’t get me wrong, I can draw a fair still life, but I had absolutely no idea about a person’s proportions or anything. So the result was comical. But I wasn’t the only one, which was a relief.

(figures drawn on maybe the second day)

So Julian taught us the female model proportions so the figures stopped looking like aliens very quickly. It astonished me how simple it was to get a basic figure, even for someone who has never done it properly in her wildest dreams. All of a sudden, it was easy; we were drawing models that came in so that we could understand their angles. This, I was told, would help to eventually be able to draw clothing on the models. We would paint contours of the model that came in with gouache, which was a disaster at first, but when I got more coordinated with the brush, it too became easier.

We would paint contours of the model that came in with gouache, which was a disaster at first, but when I got more coordinated with the brush, it too became easier.

Those were the fundamentals, but the purpose of the class was to design and create a garment that was inspired by both the Highline Park and the designer we were assigned. I was given Maison Martin Margiela, which turned out to be quite nice because he does (excuse me, did, now the team of designers does it for him) just about everything, so I could draw inspiration from anywhere. We got to go to Saks, Barney’s, and Bergdorf’s to see their clothes in the flesh, which I was very enthusiastic about. The Highline was pretty easy too. We took a field trip there and I took maybe 200 pictures. I liked the contrast of the industrial space to the nature and all of the lovely flowers. I particularly enjoyed the hydrangeas.

The Highline

Margiela

We had to draw fifteen croquis inspired by our designer and the Highline for homework one night. These would be what we based our garment off of. We also had to make an inspiration board.

I don’t like the other seven or eight so you’re not seeing them.

Then, we began garment construction. I don’t really know how I came up with the idea for my skirt; I think I was getting irritated with my fabric so I started to bunch it up.

This is what it started as:

It is four yards of single-knit jersey sewn ever my mom’s old skirt because it needed some sort of support mechanism.

I'm not really sure how I evolved it into this, but it turned out so much better than I thought.

And then I had a lot of extra time so I made this little top out of the extra fabric I had.

The dress form, by the way, is named Greta. Greta and I had some excellent times together for those two weeks. She is very supportive and kind, more so than any other mannequin you know. Her only flaw was that she was rather heavy and it was difficult lifting her out of the elevators (which, by the way, were horrendous, they stopped on every floor, every time, until there were so many people that you got stuck against the wall. Never before have I experienced such an elevator.) every day. I miss her tremendously. Minerva is great too, don’t get me wrong, but she isn’t as good for sewing as dear Greta.

On the last day, there was a presentation of all the work we did in the class. Parents and friends were invited; it really wasn’t a very big deal, it was just fun to see everyone else’s work, especially from the other classes.

This was my wall at the display.

This was some of the art I put up in detail. Greta was also shown.

The entire experience was indescribable. I loved it; everything about it, even the ridiculously ridiculous elevators and the hour and a half commutes twice a day. I surprised myself and realized that I do love being creative and artistic and that I’m not afraid of it. I realize that I can’t be expected to be great or even good at it yet, but I shouldn’t stop trying if it’s what I love. I feel like now I have an entirely new perspective on fashion and that I really do want to design, because I think I could have potential if I work on it. So, yes, I had a good time.