... of moi! I was, ahem, completely humbled when an instructor of mine told me I wasn't good enough for the Master's Program I'd been accepted to as a Dean's Fellow and attending for eight months. Illustrator, am I none, and I never pretended to be. Straightly cutting things, paper, has been a weakness since Kindergarten, but; I am the first to admit it. I've never pretended not to be someone who's better at talking about fashion, expressing sartorial feelings. The degree to me will be the knowledge of the gears, the rhythm of the ticking, of the big, old clock that is capital-F Fashion.
Anyhow, now that I've tied a bow around that miserable experience of the past, I can say that at least I know that I get it. Just finished reading the September Issue of Elle, and they showcased emerging designers with stories of warriors, buttressed by an air of the future. My vision began as a post-apocalyptic one; I had just seen Disney's WALL-E and was actually touched. Inspired. The animated film contained the most rich metallics and strong brights, and there was something so oddly beautiful about the way the piles and piles of trash/scrap patch-worked themselves together on my HDTV. My professor didn't understand the term "post-apocalyptic," and steered me in the direction of Xena Warrior Princess. Whatever.
Gratefully, I am no longer bitter about that whole experience. And I am proud of this work, even if she thinks it sucks, and I don't like the way she made me do it.
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