"A girl should be two things, classy and fabulous."
- Coco Chanel
Showing posts with label parsons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parsons. Show all posts

Monday, August 23, 2010

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

Maison Martin Margiela Spring 2006 Ready-to-Wear
Maison Martin Margiela Fall 2010 Ready-to-WearMaison Martin Margiela Spring 2007 Ready-to-Wear
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.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

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.

if by "happy" you mean trapped with no means of escape...? then yes, I'm happyold enough to know better... too young to give a rat's assspit in your soup? why ever would I do that?#%&@*!!!!!!my garden kicks assbite mesublimating my ambitions has been every bit as rewarding as mother told me it would beguess where I'm tattooedwhoever said "less is more" had probably never had quite enough "more"


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.)


Sunday, August 1, 2010

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 30th birthday yesterday, so celebrate The Boy Who Lived.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Too Much of a Good Thing

Parsons is in a week!!! Be very excited. I still haven't gotten my supply list or anything, so that Tim Gunn dream is reoccurring. Now, I am at the point where I'm planning outfits for the ten days I'll be there, as I know I will be too full of nervous energy to do it every night. And each outfit will be perfect by next week. So far I have two- and I will definitely recycle them for school and such. I know it's cheating, but I'm still going to do it.

Moving on.

I find that in the summer I have a uniform. Lilly Pulitzer shorts, bright tank top, headband, sandals, charm bracelet, DONE. It's so boring I could spit up on myself. I know that the whole Lilly Pulitzer-in-the-summer thing is overplayed to the point of annoyance, yet I will continue to do it. I have these vintage shorts with fruit all over them that I can't leave alone.
The shoes are marvelous, they came into the B&B a few weeks ago. And I will be wearing them with those shorts until I'm blue in the face.

Monday, July 19, 2010

Giraffes Make A Girl Very Giddy


We went to the Bronx Zoo yesterday, and although I detest the fact that the animals are stuck in captivity, I find myself positively dazzled by the giraffes. They ooze elegance.



There were also a few random peacocks running around, trying to steal fries from unsuspecting children. I wanted to steal a feather to use for headbands,(because my hair is really something these days) but I don't think he or the zoo people would have liked that very much.


¡AND PLEASE NOTE THAT THERE ARE ONLY THIRTEEN DAYS LEFT UNTIL PARSONS!

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Sweater Nostalgia

I haven't posted in like a week because, well, I have nothing of interest to say. Sure, I could tell you oodles about the new Wizarding World of Harry Potter theme park that I want desperately to go to (but someone's mother thinks it's immature and won't let me...) or how much I want an English bulldog( named something that sounds old and French, and he would never grow past puppyhood- so I could get a large orange Birkin bag to carry him around in), but I doubt very much that you'd care to hear it. I have far too much time on my hands but will do nothing productive with it.

Now, I have a confession. I miss sweaters. This is quite possibly the most ridiculous statement to share because those of you who (maybe?) read my postings in the winter months know that I moaned ceaselessly about the cold... and the snow... and the ice... and basically anything else that I could. But now it's 110 degrees! I didn't ask for this! At these temperatures, I can't even go outside without breaking into a sweat, mind you, I don't usually go outside that much. To edit my statement, I don't miss the winter, I just miss layers. And sweaters.

Alex White will show you why.

Prada wool sweater, prada belt.
Prada just makes sweaters just so cozy-looking, and the belt takes the rugged-ness it to a more feminine level. Oh, and Miss Palvin's hair is divine.

See by Chloe sweater
I love love love love a million times love Marc Jacobs' shoes with those socks, and I can't even think of the proper words to say why. And I really do wish that I had shorts like that because you know I would be the one in December getting frostbite because the shorts are so magical. I could wear them to school, as I don't imagine they'd enforce the shorts dress code then.

So there we go, I am easily influenced by W. Sue me.

26 DAYS TIL PARSONS.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Some Paranoia?


I like Free People... except that it's rather mainstream now. Mainstream makes me break out into hives. Well, I'm not really that affected, but I don't like it. Oh, so I was talking about this top. I bought it (well actually my mother spent the money, but she owed me, so) yesterday and I'm excited to wear it with a blazer-- preferably navy blue.

Um, it doesn't look quite as gorgeous on me because I am not, nor will I ever be the 6'2 model here. I also don't really care to be suctioned into my clothes so mine is considerably looser. I'm a nit picker, especially when it comes to clothes, as you may be able to tell.

And... um... HELLO!!!! PARSONS IS IN A MONTH!!!! BY GOLLY, I'M EXCITED!!!! I still need to get my supplies list and such, because I've been having nightmares where Tim Gunn and Heidi Klum call me a failure because I show up with only a pencil and without my shoes. And then Michael Kors starts making snarky remarks in that high pitched voice of his -while Nina shoots me a dirty look in the corner. I end up crying on the runway. I know that the entire scenario is absolutely crazy, but still, the thought of Michael Kors calling me a mess is a very scary thought indeed.