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.

Hail the resentful housewife

I've been rather obsessed with the 50's lately, particularly housewives, and these Anne Taintor magnets capture my feelings perfectly. We're in New Jersey and there's a store here that sells them. I may have to buy some. And then a magnetized surface to put them on. Please excuse the over-paste, as I like them a lot.

go here for more joy.

(I don't want to talk about Parsons now because I don't have photos and the entire post would be meaningless mumbling without them. I would even be confused. But let me just tell you before I move on, it was probably the most eventful and interesting thing that has happened thus far in my rather uneventful life. That's all.)

Massive Anxiety/ Extreme Excitement

Parsons is tomorrow. I have gone into a full-blown panic attack. I can’t breathe. I can’t concentrate. I have the worst headache. This all just hit me about an hour ago when I realized that this is actually happening.

We were assigned an influential designer to study beforehand. I have Maison Martin Margiela, and it is likely that I’ll be on the computer for the rest of the day researching him and printing out his runway photos.

I have incredible amounts of art and sewing supplies, which adds another worry to my list because I’m unsure how exactly I’m going to get them in the city without a pack mule. I also have to bring my sewing machine, because the industrial ones scare me. That could be potentially problematic.

And I have narrowed my outfit choices down to four. I’m unsure of which because we’ll be painting and such so I need to be practical, but I don’t want to be so over-practical that I’m boring.

But underneath the panic, I’m so excited.

***It was Harry Potter’s 30^th birthday yesterday, so celebrate The Boy Who Lived.