“Did you sign up yet??” Polina asked
“Ahh… I did not.” I said, thinking she’d forgotten about it. “I just don’t know if I-”
“Don’t worry. It’s a no-brainer. A great opportunity for you” She said back, grinning.
“Yeah…” I watched her walk away.
She was referencing the Emerging Designer competition put on annually as a part of Indiana Fashion Week. The show was the very last night of INDFW, the conclusion of the whole week. It features six to eight of the “best” designers in Indiana. They have an opportunity to present a minimum of eight looks done by their brand on a runway. Having this opportunity meant working with your own stylist, makeup artist, and getting to hand pick your own models to represent your brand. Even professional photographers at the event would take impeccable coverage of your collection. It sounded like the opportunity of a lifetime and it made me insanely happy to even think about having a chance, but I had far too much self-doubt to even try. My brand, asymclothing, relied almost entirely on me purchasing some blank tees or hoodies or whatever the garment would be and embroidering on them with a two-in-one embroidery/sewing machine I bought when I was in high school.
I sighed after she reminded me to apply, turned back to my laptop, and opened a new tab. I typed “I…n…d..” and a website I had already clicked through a million times popped up first in autocomplete. Indianafashionweek.com. Muscle memory kicked in. I scrolled down to the bottom of the page and rolled over the dropdown menu about the previous year’s event and clicked on “INDFW 21 Runway Show” almost as if I was in a trance. As many times as I watched it before, I wanted to confirm this was out of my league. Yep, I thought to myself as I scrubbed through the video, there’s literally no way. These people had their own unique tastes, the clothes looked perfect, and they all were far older than me. I’d feel so out of place if I applied.
Polina and I had that conversation on a Thursday, and after work I went home for the weekend, going back and forth about whether or not I should apply. I decided I’d at least look at the application. I pulled up the website yet again and navigated to the application and thought y’know what? Fine. What do I have to lose? The application wants a portfolio of asym and I don’t even have that. If I don’t get to do the runway show, I’ll at least have a portfolio of asym. My whole life changed after I hit that “submit application” button. A few days later, I heard back that I had gotten the position and I had to confirm by paying a fee for all the resources they were handing to me. I called my mom so fast, explaining everything. She was thrilled to help me out with the cost.
Photo by Mikaela Helane
That left one thing: me designing, constructing, and fitting eight asym looks. No biggie. Ugh. I was completely paralyzed after my mom sent in the payment. That meant I was really in there. I remember one morning sitting on the floor of my apartment, iPad in hand, Procreate open, completely stuck. I had a few ideas and I scribbled them onto croquis (had to have Megan, the stylist’s, help on that one. I didn’t even know what they were before). A couple of days went by and I did a few more. Since I had no idea about the process of designing clothes, I was confused as to why the date of picking models was so far away. How am I supposed to know the sizes of these people? Do I make the garment then seek the size, or seek the size then make the garment? That thought swirled around in my head for days. I wouldn’t buy a single fabric or blank garment because of how often I changed my mind. I had so many ideas. I told so many friends about this opportunity because I was so excited initially, but as soon as they followed up days later with “Micah! How are the plans for fashion week going?” I would freeze. I’d almost turn cold to them. I didn’t want anyone to ask me about it until it was over. I was still a little over a month away from runway night but had no idea how or if I was going to feel like I was confident in what I had going. I had so many ideas swirling in my head but none of them were out on paper, or anywhere for that matter. They just kept swirling.
My second-guessing mind didn’t help either. Every time I thought I had a good grasp on what the eight looks would be, I’d sleep that night and wake up the next day like “Nah. Every last one of these is trash. No one’s going to like these. I’m starting over.” And delete like half of the sketches. I wish I could count how many different drafts certain outfits went through. Then count how drastically different the sketches looked from the actual pieces. Because of all this, I still had not bought a single fabric or garment yet. I was too caught up in my lack of experience. And damn social media. I checked Instagram almost every day to take my mind off things, only to be bombarded with how much farther along the other designers were than me. It made my stomach churn.
Photo by Mikaela Helane
I’m not sure what caused the shift into go-mode. I think it was finally picking the models. I have always loved watching models walk in fashion shows. The stoic expression. The good looks. The cool clothes. It always gave me goosebumps how cool they looked. I have an unreasonably specific taste when it comes to picking my outfits. Certain clothes and colors almost feel uncomfortable when I wear something I don’t like, and I have a really good imagination when it comes to seeing certain people in specific looks, colors, and clothes. By the time the two model castings were over, I had gotten a little bit more comfortable about what I wanted to happen. Since asym didn’t have a “signature” design feel, I knew this was my chance to create my own. I am the biggest fangirl when it comes to earth tones, cargo pants, and any utility-style clothes with a nature-y feel. That’s exactly what I wanted to convey with the collection I released. I shifted my perspective and realized that I’m essentially dressing eight different Micahs. This inspired me greatly. I have almost impeccable style these days. I got so hype thinking about this because I always find myself thinking about how cool the world would look if everyone dressed like me. Earth tones, utility clothes, casual, but still nature inspired. It’s the killer combo.
I (surprise) redid a few more sketches, bought fabrics and a few garments I knew I couldn’t sew within the allotted time frame, and got to work. Pinterest saved my life. I had a beautiful board created with how I wanted things to look, and a subsection about how I wanted the release to feel. It was filled entirely with nature. Mountains, forests, and rivers. I bought a safari hat and a couple of fisherman’s caps (a baseball cap with a flap in the back). As I was looking for more inspiration through Pinterest, I noticed that the algorithm had bought me a couple of upcycled looks and I knew I wanted to incorporate that into it as well. This meant I had to go out to a thrift store, hope they had the types of pockets/colors of clothing I wanted to incorporate, and cut them all up.
Back at PATTERN a week or so later, some interns and I were discussing thrifting, and one of the interns, Rosie, brought up how fun it was to travel to the Goodwill Outlet and enjoy loading up the cart. It’s essentially a regular Goodwill store, but instead of aisles they have these huge bins filled with all types of clothes, shoes, and electronics. Instead of pricing each item, you paid by the pound. I was so eager to hear this. I practically flew to Goodwill after work that day. I arrived, put on my headphones, and marched in. I don’t know what happens to me when I go thrifting. I’m all of a sudden in this other dimension and there’s so many possibilities for practically every garment I see. I took home a huge amount of clothes. Obviously most of them would go to the fashion show, but I was so hype about how things were starting to pick up that I knew I wanted asym to transform to something like this even after the show.
I arrived home, put on my favorite show, and got to work seam ripping, tearing, and cutting up half the clothes I had purchased. I knew I was behind the other designers, but I didn’t even care. Once my mind settles on an idea, I know for a fact I’ll have laser focus until it gets done, especially for something as big as this. Over the next few days, I had strategized what cut-up pieces I wanted to go where. Cargo pockets here, random shapes there, etc. It was amazing the rush I felt finally letting the swirling mess of ideas out. Or, it could be chalked up to the fact that it was July 14th and I legitimately had twenty days to finish sixty percent of the things I wanted to do. Stress and pure excitement for the win. Glad my only solid commitment was this two-day-a-week internship. Had I been in school, this story would be far less triumphant.
Photo by Mikaela Helane
If you have your days free in the summer you realize how much time we truly have in our waking hours. I’m already a pretty early riser so when I got up at my usual time of about 7:00 a.m., I would immediately get to work. I’d push through until some time between 12:00 p.m. and 2:00 p.m. to give myself a little lunch break. Then, back to work till about 5:00 or 6:00 p.m. Some nights went as late as 9:00 p.m. I repeated this for two full weeks, besides the days I came into PATTERN. Wake up. Cut. Sew. Eat. Sew. Cut. Sleep. Towards the end of the two weeks, I got exhausted from repeating this. Social media was still there to make sure I didn’t feel any better. While I was spending my entire day working towards completing my collection, other designers were near done. Doing last rounds of fittings, enjoying the process. I envied them. I was upset. There were definitely some tears here and there, as silly as it is to admit this now. I obviously enjoyed the process, but my self-chatter can sometimes be a bit negative in times of high stakes, which made it hard to feel like I was enjoying myself.
One of my closest friends from middle school, Lauryn, lives all the way in California. We hadn’t talked in a few months, but I had to tell her about this. This was the craziest endeavor I’ve had in my life and we both adore fashion. I called her, got her up to speed, and her response felt so warm. She’s always positive about any cool situation I find myself in, but she was insanely happy about this. She had the warmest smile and asked if she could view a couple of looks. I reluctantly showed her, and she practically screamed about how cool outfits looked. That was the boost I needed. I felt beyond confident, and that this show could be cool if everyone in the audience simply thought like my middle school friend here. Easy.
Photo by Mikaela Helane
Fashion week began. This means I had six days to schedule my fittings, make adjustments, and be ready for the day over a hundred people view what I had been crafting. Everything was mostly done, but besides Lauryn, I showed no one what I had done so far. I was too self-conscious. I wanted them to see it for themselves on the runway, once the models had everything on and they did their confident, stoic walk. I scheduled my fittings over the previous weekend. One individual wouldn’t respond. At the PATTERN office on the Thursday before, all my fittings were done except that one. People were asking if I was ready, and I would simply respond with “Yeah…! I think so.” Flat. Not convincing one bit. I’m usually pretty vocal at the office, but silence fell over most of the day. I was all in my head, in shambles about the model not reading my Instagram DM’s, but freely posting on his story. It was insulting, but that made me realize that it’s probably why he isn’t signed to an agency. I had no shoes for the models because none of them seemed to own the sneakers I was envisioning. To add insult to injury, I did one of my model fittings a day earlier that week and had that uncomfortable feeling I feel when I don’t like the way clothes look on me. I wasn’t feeling the look at all on her. I wouldn’t let her down the runway like that. I redid the whole outfit. It was a mess and I was a mess…again. Two. Days. Left.
I was saved by Cory, an employee at our office. By the end of that Thursday, she had offered up her partner, Clint, to replace the model. He’s a fantastic guy. The perfect look to replace the model. I seriously don’t know if she knows how much she helped out with that short convo. It felt like I was trying to hike up a mountain with a car attached to me, and Cory came and cut the cord connecting me to the car. I can’t thank her enough. Friday morning, I flew to Target to gather all the shoes everyone would wear. Friday afternoon I worked overtime to finish the outfit I so boldly thought I could redo. I felt like I was holding my breath the whole day.
My mother and sister had come into town the day before and I got dinner with them. I returned home at 10:00 p.m. and worked even more on the outfit. I worked until one am and said I’d wake up tomorrow to finish. I couldn’t sleep to save my life. The nerves consumed me again. My outfit isn’t even finished. All the outfits need more touch-ups. What if the new outfit doesn’t fit the model? What if people notice that X doesn’t look too good? What if people see that not ALL of the pieces weren’t entirely constructed by me? Imposter syndrome like never before, consuming me.
Photo by Keith Green
I woke up at something like 6:45 a.m. to try and finish what I needed to do, get ready, pack all the stuff up, and get to the show for our 8:00 a.m. call time. I think that not realizing that our call time was, in fact, 10:00 a.m. until the other designers started showing up at that time is what really did it for me. Ask anyone that saw me that morning, I was a nervous wreck. Leo, one of the photographers, and a buddy of mine arrived, noticed, and said right away how nervous I looked, which doubled whatever nerves I had before. I was pacing. I was guarding the clothing rack with my looks so no one would try to see them.
The day flew by, and my models and Leo made me feel less nervous as time went on. The time arrived for everyone to get dressed and line up. It upset me to know that I couldn’t be out in the audience to watch the models walk. All I could do was stand backstage and assume that everyone would see what I saw. What I worked tirelessly for. My stomach dropped when I heard the host announce that it was time for asym. My first model, Katie, began to walk out. Then the second. Third. Fourth. The screams and cheers were insane to me. No one cheered louder for anyone’s collection that night. Backstage, I watched as those who went first came back in, and the last few walked out. I was completely overcome with emotion. I knew they killed it. I knew by the reception of the audience. It was time for me to do the final walk with all of them, so people could see the designer.
As I walked out, people were screaming. Cheering. Yelling for asym. Yelling for the models. The work I had done. The runway layout was a square, and as I rounded the last turn I saw everyone I knew. That was it for me. Seeing them cheer for me and the work I had done made me feel overwhelmed in the best way possible. They appreciated what they saw, not knowing all the stress and nerves I was under. I broke down. Tears of happiness flowed from my eyes, and I watched the PATTERN employees and my mother and sister have the same reaction. That made me even more emotional. I tried keeping it together till I got backstage, but it was no use. I was so happy that people were happy with what they saw.
Photo by Mikaela Helane
The models and I made it backstage. They turned and saw me crying and we morphed into this happy, overwhelmed group hug. I thanked them through tears. I couldn’t believe this was a real situation I was in. Words cannot describe the immense joy, relief, and gratitude that flowed out of me. I felt like a ball of sunshine at this point. I was, and still am, riding out the happiness I felt for myself. After the show, so many strangers were congratulating me. The DJ of the event congratulated me. I got people’s business cards that night. I looked at my phone and had a bunch of mentions and various angles of the collection. The feedback could not have been more positive. It was at that point that I finally let go of every negative thinking pattern and allowed myself to feel the warmth of the joy that everyone put forth. Everything I had worked towards the last month and a half led me to that point, and I couldn’t have been more satisfied.
I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Polina and her eye for lining up people with opportunities they didn’t even know they needed. There’s no doubt it was hard, but it gave me a fresh perspective on my brand. A brand that has been mine since the tenth grade. It gave me confidence, hope, connections, and opportunities that I wouldn’t have even known existed had it not been for me taking this internship. As I type this, I still don’t believe it went down like that.
But it’s real. I can’t thank everyone enough.
Photo by Aaron Spaulding
