xlinduh
Aug 28, 2012
Scholarship / VCU Page 87 essay - "Fashion Show" [2]
The prompt is to imagine that I am writing page 87 in my autobiography. It can be about the past, present or even future. I am to be creative to show where my life would be at this point in time. I decided to write about my first fashion show and what that would be/feel like to finally accomplish my dream. Thank you for reading!
That was the moment when everything I had struggled through, everything that had torn me down yet built me up, and everything that had amplified my basin of knowledge came together within my heart. It intermingled into a ball of taut emotion, and exploded.
The moment when the lights dimmed, the moment when the song started its slow and captivating melody, the moment when the first model took a step out with her left foot onto the runway, time stopped at that moment for everything in my life to come together within me to burst into the most spectacular rush of adrenaline and euphoria.
Time unfroze itself and my very first fashion show began.
I had helped with fashion shows once or twice before; it was quite stressful running around to make sure each model was ready with their appropriate outfit and accessories. That stress was almost minusculecompared to the craze and stress of running my own show. But it was still exciting and so much fun.
Model after model went out, each within 10 seconds of each other. Every model that stepped out onto the runway with a different outfit on gave me flutters of excitement within my stomach. I wanted the audience to love them, each and every one of them. I wanted the audience to be captured by the designs, the colors, the texture, and the details. I wanted the audience to love them. I wanted them to love my creations.
The show flew by and before I knew it, it was my turn to walk out, smile, wave and thank everyone for coming. I realized I'd never forget this moment. As I stood there on the runway of my first fashion show, I savored the feelings of excitement, anticipation, anxiousness, adrenaline, and I stored them deep within my heart. Once I had done so, I gave the audience one last wave and turned to walk back to backstage. And thus ended my first show.
The models, crew, assistantsand I had a party later that night to celebrate the success of the show. We toasted to a job well done and for the minimal mistakes and lack of injuries. I saw several magazine critics and designers who were in the audience that accepted my invitation to the party. Some came up to congratulate me for the success of the show and we discussed my ideas behind some of the outfits as well as tips on how to improve. I thanked them for their show of their expertise and moved to converse with my other guests. The night went on and I found myself alone on the balcony.
I leaned against the railing with my arms slightly dangling over it, my hands mindlessly twirling the neck of a champagne glass. My head fell back and I closed my eyes, inhaled and let out a deep sigh - a sigh of relief, of contentment, of tiredness. I opened my eyes to gaze at the beautifully clear night sky, and I smiled. No, I grinned. Today I had experienced what I had dreamed about ever since I was a teenager when I finally realized my ardor for art and fashion. "It only took me seven years to accomplish this..." I had said to myself with a small chuckle.
I began to reminisce. Back to when I first stepped into the fast paced world of the fashion industry in New York, my first major blunders, the over whelming amount of tears that I shed from the stress and competition, the odd side-jobs I took in order to support myself, my first successes - everything. But most of all, I reminisced about the support I received from those I befriended back in college who stayed with me as I grew as well as the teachers who guided me onto this path with their critiques and knowledge. At that moment, I was grateful. I was grateful for the education I had received and how my life opened itself to be. At that moment, I knew I had no regrets. All the harsh words that were flung at me, all the mistakes I made, and all the tears I shed, they all had made me grow, and I was grateful, for they all led me here to my dream, my goal, my ambition.
My cell phone rang, startling me out of my reflection. I pulled it out to see the name of one of my childhood best friends on the screen. She was one of my greatest supports, one of the first to believe in me and my designs. I smiled and answered the phone. "Hel- ?" "Linda! I just saw your show! It was incredible! I saw the dress that I liked too. I told you orange was a much better color on it than blue! But oh my gosh..." My friend prattled on excitedly about the show. I shook my head at how some things would never change, and went back inside to what I knew would be a very long talk of girlish squealing over the dream that I had finally managed to capture in my hand.
The prompt is to imagine that I am writing page 87 in my autobiography. It can be about the past, present or even future. I am to be creative to show where my life would be at this point in time. I decided to write about my first fashion show and what that would be/feel like to finally accomplish my dream. Thank you for reading!
That was the moment when everything I had struggled through, everything that had torn me down yet built me up, and everything that had amplified my basin of knowledge came together within my heart. It intermingled into a ball of taut emotion, and exploded.
The moment when the lights dimmed, the moment when the song started its slow and captivating melody, the moment when the first model took a step out with her left foot onto the runway, time stopped at that moment for everything in my life to come together within me to burst into the most spectacular rush of adrenaline and euphoria.
Time unfroze itself and my very first fashion show began.
I had helped with fashion shows once or twice before; it was quite stressful running around to make sure each model was ready with their appropriate outfit and accessories. That stress was almost minusculecompared to the craze and stress of running my own show. But it was still exciting and so much fun.
Model after model went out, each within 10 seconds of each other. Every model that stepped out onto the runway with a different outfit on gave me flutters of excitement within my stomach. I wanted the audience to love them, each and every one of them. I wanted the audience to be captured by the designs, the colors, the texture, and the details. I wanted the audience to love them. I wanted them to love my creations.
The show flew by and before I knew it, it was my turn to walk out, smile, wave and thank everyone for coming. I realized I'd never forget this moment. As I stood there on the runway of my first fashion show, I savored the feelings of excitement, anticipation, anxiousness, adrenaline, and I stored them deep within my heart. Once I had done so, I gave the audience one last wave and turned to walk back to backstage. And thus ended my first show.
The models, crew, assistantsand I had a party later that night to celebrate the success of the show. We toasted to a job well done and for the minimal mistakes and lack of injuries. I saw several magazine critics and designers who were in the audience that accepted my invitation to the party. Some came up to congratulate me for the success of the show and we discussed my ideas behind some of the outfits as well as tips on how to improve. I thanked them for their show of their expertise and moved to converse with my other guests. The night went on and I found myself alone on the balcony.
I leaned against the railing with my arms slightly dangling over it, my hands mindlessly twirling the neck of a champagne glass. My head fell back and I closed my eyes, inhaled and let out a deep sigh - a sigh of relief, of contentment, of tiredness. I opened my eyes to gaze at the beautifully clear night sky, and I smiled. No, I grinned. Today I had experienced what I had dreamed about ever since I was a teenager when I finally realized my ardor for art and fashion. "It only took me seven years to accomplish this..." I had said to myself with a small chuckle.
I began to reminisce. Back to when I first stepped into the fast paced world of the fashion industry in New York, my first major blunders, the over whelming amount of tears that I shed from the stress and competition, the odd side-jobs I took in order to support myself, my first successes - everything. But most of all, I reminisced about the support I received from those I befriended back in college who stayed with me as I grew as well as the teachers who guided me onto this path with their critiques and knowledge. At that moment, I was grateful. I was grateful for the education I had received and how my life opened itself to be. At that moment, I knew I had no regrets. All the harsh words that were flung at me, all the mistakes I made, and all the tears I shed, they all had made me grow, and I was grateful, for they all led me here to my dream, my goal, my ambition.
My cell phone rang, startling me out of my reflection. I pulled it out to see the name of one of my childhood best friends on the screen. She was one of my greatest supports, one of the first to believe in me and my designs. I smiled and answered the phone. "Hel- ?" "Linda! I just saw your show! It was incredible! I saw the dress that I liked too. I told you orange was a much better color on it than blue! But oh my gosh..." My friend prattled on excitedly about the show. I shook my head at how some things would never change, and went back inside to what I knew would be a very long talk of girlish squealing over the dream that I had finally managed to capture in my hand.
