Tiny Steps

Today I did something I've been wanting to do for over a year. Today I threw out the project that haunted me and nearly drove me to murder at Central Saint Martins. I never got rid of it for fear that, I dunno, I might suddenly fall in love with it later on. I unceremoniously shoved it under my bed and glared at it every time I happened to catch a glimpse.

Remember this horrible thing?

No you probably don't, and that's a good thing. It was a two person project and I got teamed up with my favourite person in the whole class. She and I worked out asses off, doing every step of the project together. She designed and printed the muscle-inspired dress, and I designed and printed and made the skeleton-inspired cage over it, printed with a photograph of hair and skin.

When it came time to present the entire class was impressed with what we had pulled off in ten days. I hated it, and it wasn't well made, but at least it was done and it looked just like my idea. However when it came down to grading, my partner passed and I failed. We were graded by the Evil Tutor, who adored her and hated me.

I was so furious and defeated at that point I gave up. I stopped feeling any semblence of optimism and began assuming the worst- which did indeed come to pass. This project marked the beginning of the end in my mind.

So today I pulled this piece of shit out from under the bed, pulled the dust bunnies off of it....

Carried it downstairs looking like a hairy, curled up dead spider.....

And happily threw it into the skip, never to be seen again!
 

It was incredibly liberating! I look forward to going through my other projects soon and tossing them out as well!

The Anxiety Dream of CSM

Last night I had the strangest anxiety dream. It didn't have any of the normal trappings of an anxiety dream- in fact most of those classic things happened, but I wasn't worried about those. What I was worried about in this dream was not being helped when I needed it most.

So my dream began on the morning of a project presentation at Saint Martins. I had worked my ass off and created an epic presentation, a beautiful dress to show, and I was nervous, but ready. We had to present in a theatre, mic in hand, to an audience full of people. That didn't bother me.

The dream skipped forward and I ran up on stage, grabbed the mic and began to banter with the audience and tell them a little about my project. I was ready for my model to come on stage. But no one came. It turns out that my classmates/friends didn't feel like trying on my dress, and just decided not to model for me. So I had no dress to show, and the rest of my presentation rested on having the model out there on stage with me.

I turned it into a joke on stage, and ended my presentation without actually presenting anything. Backstage, I was furious! I looked at my group of tall, skinny classmates that had agreed to model and demanded to know why they just caused me to publicly fail my project when I had worked so hard on it. They answered with, "we're tired," and that was that.


I woke up feeling let down and untrusting.

The Best Decision I've Ever Made

The other day I read over the blog entries I wrote during my year at CSM and I have come to a very solid conclusion: the best decision I've ever made was to leave that awful place.

It's evident from my entries that I repeatedly tried to rise to the challenges set by Evil Tutor, and was constantly knocked down without any explanation as to why. I can see how bravely I tried to take each failure as a reason to try even harder. And I can see how fucking miserable I was. It sorta killed me; it sorta made me stronger. I am still trying to sort my head out after a year of constant mindfucks.

But every time someone complements my shoe designs, or asks me to consult with them on a costume or project I feel a little bit better. It's good to know that although I've lost all confidence in my abilities, others have not. A little external reassurance is exactly what I need right now.

The Spaces In Between

Let me tell you a story, dear readers. A story of one of the only projects I really enjoyed doing at Central Saint Martins. Well, "enjoyed" might be too strong of a word.

This project had a prompt as lackluster as porridge: "what is your journey?" I was feeling particularly lonely that term and so I planned to do the project on physical journeys, historic journeys, epic stories and poems, migration, the hero cycle, and my own journey from San Francisco to London. After I had amassed a pile of research several hundred images thick I approached my Evil Tutor with my idea, only to have him cut me off with a disappointed sigh and the question, "why don't you do it on fashion or something more interesting?"

At that point I realized he wasn't going to like anything I produced, so I whittled the grand concept down to something so basic even a luddite like Evil Tutor could grasp it. But I had to keep in mind the fact that this was Saint Martins, and they don't like anything too direct or obvious. So, first I narrowed the concept to something physical: two iconic bridges. One from the city I came from, and one from the city I came to. And then to make it more Saint Martins-y I decided to focus not on the bridges, so much as the way they cut up space... the negative space around the bridges. (This is when my fascination with negative space began.)

The project was called "The Spaces In Between", and now I'm going to share it with you.

I began with my two iconic bridges, and followed it up with a few pages of sketches of the negative space created by the bridges (which didn't turn out in photos, and weren't all that interesting anyhow)



From these sketches of negative space I began to wonder what defined space as negative. If you are looking at the space around an object at the same time as you are looking at the object itself, you are seeing the same thing two different ways at the same time. So my next step was to find a way to visually explain the idea of "looking at the same thing from two angles at once" visually to my Tutor.



I found a photographer whose name escapes me now, who photographed the same arch from two perspectives and placed them one right next to another. How would that translate to fashion? I imagined a woman wearing a dress with a naked body printed on it that was facing a direction other than the one the wearer was actually facing.

But Saint Martins likes to see that you always refer back to your original concept by the time you design rough sketches. So after some playing with 3d application of this concept on top of this my naked torso ideas (again, which didn't photograph well), I designed a number of very strange garments.



Now, before you think, "holy shit, those are some crap drawings and hideous designs," let me explain that I went a bit crazy with this project because my tutor told me two conflicting things at once shortly before I began this project. First he told me that I didn't experiment with shape or concept enough, and then he told me not two minutes later that my designs were too outlandish and not at all wearable. So I tried to both experiment with shape, but not go as overboard as I previously had.

Moving on....

That same photographer also played with space by taking photos of an archway, cutting it in half and thereby redefining the space it occupied. It was a natural progression from my last idea, so I started cutting up the body and redefining the space it would take up. I then took something very basic- the jeans and t shirt- and cut those iconic shapes up, changing the space and shape they used.








I liked the idea of playing with familiar shapes on the body, so I asked one of my flatmates to let me tie her up. Using string I created some interesting shapes on her body, around her body, and then translated these shapes into negative and positive space, before changing the negative into positive again etc etc. I ended up using some of the shapes created by the string and raising them by quilting a fabric sample...





I also looked at artists who responded to the shape of the body in unusual ways, and found that I was drawn to things that protruded from the body in unusual ways, so I did a few fabric samples to create little nubbins that would protrude from seams...



But I worried I had strayed too far from my original starting point and Evil Tutor hated my train of thought, so I explored the use of space again by literally taking the images I began with and cutting them up, sewing the paper back together, etc in order to create new shapes out of them.



Which I then combined with the idea of quilting shapes (thereby turning a flat space into a 3d space) and designed a few more roughs:



So now I had a lot of ideas, but I had more to do. Being a fashion and print student, I also had to design and produce a print for my fabric.

I once again went back to my original bridges and my idea of negative space and began looking for art and photography that served to illustrate my ideas. In the end I ended up tracing out the negative space around the bridge in the black and white photo on the top page. I then repeated that pattern, cut out out and made a ghetto screen which I used to print, foil, flock, and dye fabric with. (The print looked like what you see on that sheet of tracing paper stuck in the book.)



I then proceeded to combine all these concepts together to create a booklet of about 15 fabric samples using my new print, some of my original concepts, and all the various artists I ended up looking at. Here are a few poorly photographed samples:


Nubbins, a clear foil print, and industrial looking seams/bolts. Very bridge like and also very in line with what I wanted to do. Pardon the brown fuzz on the fabric sample. heh.



The ass print from the original "looking at the same thing from two angles" idea, combined with the bolts, and the print, done in foil.


Just the print, quilted in select places. Um, I did this one very quickly so please excuse the mess. It was just a quick sample, remember.


Taking the concept of the bridge print and making it less literal.


A painting using the artist I found late in the project that I felt showed the softer side of the steel structures.


Now, using these and my other ten samples, I did a few more sketches recycling my favorite styles from the previous sketches and applying my new prints onto them:






And finally, I attempted to change the very fashiony way I illustrate (being trained for 3 years in fashion illustration will do that) to reflect the playful nature of the designs I settled on. These were a lot of fun to do:




I think my favorite is the ass dress, which I aim to produce at some point...


So that's a rough idea of how a project went for me. I got a lot of good response from my classmates on this one. And although it was a very new way of working, and I had to disregard all the research I did in the beginning, I felt like I arrived at something that I could see being worn.

I also realized that the project could have been much more Me. It would have been more interesting, more in-depth, just "more" if I hadn't had to waste time visually explaining my ideas to the tutor, instead of just working the ideas through to their logical and creative end. I was too tutor-aware my boyfriend said, and he's right. This project would have been much more interesting if Evil Tutor didn't need each step explained out to him. He could never follow my thought processes and so I went to a great deal of trouble trying to visually explain them to him which in the end distracted me and stunted my design process.

Of course I failed this project. Evil Tutor never told me why, and frankly I didn't care. Shortly after this project I realized I didn't want to be at Saint Martins anymore.

Funny how a project about journeys would end up pointing me in a new direction.

Celebrate

I find myself at home with a sudden head cold (no, it's not swine flu, for the last god damn time people!) and sitting in bed with little to do but drink tea and bemoan the fact that I'm not out celebrating right now.

So what do I have to celebrate, you ask?

Today my flatmate and I learned that our application for a flat in Hoxton was accepted! And not only that, but we both decided that we hated the student dorms so much that we opted to move out sooner than we originally planned. Instead of September 5th we are now moving in to our new place on August 10th. Yes, I am mere days away from a double bed, a bath tub, a real kitchen, and a living room. Can you believe it? I still don't. I am still skeptical, and sure that something will go wrong. It is too good to be true.

I've lived in a lot of different apartments, but I have always rented a room in someone else's flat. It didn't seem right to leave my stuff in the rest of the house, interrupting their routines and habits. But now? Now I can create my own living habits and my stuff can be anywhere! I can do logical things like make a place for my DVDs in the living room! I can leave my sketchbook and paints on the table without fear of being in someone's way. This is huge for me, you see. I finally get to occupy the space I have and make it my own.

Secondly, and in some ways more importantly, I would like to formally announce that I have decided to leave Central Saint Martins School of Shit and Bollocks.

This, I believe, warrants a drink. A toast, even. Raise your glasses if you will to the end of an era and beginning of another, far better one.

When I found out that Evil Tutor failed my latex project (despite telling me it was good all the way through the process) I made up my mind that I would not be returning to that awful sham they call a university, regardless of whether they wanted me to repeat 1st year or move on to 2nd year.

Words cannot describe how incredibly happy I am to be free of that place.

For the first time in years I feel inspired, eager to learn. Eager to make my own way, to go out into the world and absorb information. I want to do everything, create everything, experience everything. I feel free. I have no solid plan, just a good solid feel for the direction I want to head in. And that is liberating.

Of course I can't deny that CSM is a good name to have on your degree. Those three letters will open a lot of doors for a designer. Though, point of interest, I have come to realize that it will also close doors.

In making the decision to leave the school, I came across an interesting phenomenon in the design world. Being able to say "I graduated from St Martins" is great, but there is a certain respect I get when I say that I studied at St Martins only to realize that the reputation wasn't justified, and chose to leave. Funny, that.

In case I haven't made it painfully clear, this is not a school that will teach you anything, least of all actual, technical skills. Now I know that we all love the idea of simply drawing out a pretty sketch and handing it to someone else to make, but frankly that is bullshit. You need to follow through. True artists of any kind need to understand their materials, their craft, their process.... and often those things will inform and change their design. Half the stress/fun is in the process of trying to make one of your designs and seeing how it changes and becomes better.

The reason I got my internship with my awesome design mentor is not because I went to CSM, but because I studied at a technical fashion school and have a background in theatre and performance. I even said in my initial letter to her that "despite hailing from St Martins, I have not yet had my love for design or theatricality beaten out of me." She knew exactly what I meant.

My point is simply that there is something to be said for knowing how to make things. Any things. Whatever sort of things you want to make. And if you want to learn to make things, then St Martins is not the place to be.


So raise one more glass to the end of St Martins. And give Evil Tutor the finger for me, will you?

In the meantime I am looking into community college classes while I consider other universities. And should I decide to attend another uni, I have decided that the classes I take will not be in fashion.

I need a break.

But I also have a good solid foundation in fashion now, and it's time to start expanding outwards. In order to do this I am devoting four or five days a week to my internship to learn as much as possible from the designers I work for. And when I begin taking classes again, I want to learn to work with other materials so I can incorporate them into my designs- plastic, wood, metal, etc. I want to work in anything besides fabric and learn anything except fashion.

More shoe making and design courses are already queued up (more on that later), and from these classes I have also developed a rather subversive plan regarding my future shoe designs. See, a friend of mine at CSM asked if I was planning on continuing to learn how to make shoes, and if so, would I design and make the shoes for her final show at St Martins. I of course said yes! See, this way I get to have my final 3rd year show at St Martins by putting my shoes in the show, right under the nose of Evil Tutor and all those other fuckers who told me I was shit. BWAHAHAHAHA <---evil laughter and mustache stroking

Hell, if you've managed to read this far I think you deserve one more drink. Raise your glass one more time to the closing of a miserable year at an all-consuming, pretentious, and useless school, and the end of a year living in a moldy, tiny, uncomfortable dorm room.


Cheers.

Freud Goes To the Cinema

I once wrote a short and very wordy essay on Freud's theories of the unconscious. I did it by applying his ideas to the film Rocky Horror Picture Show.

This is not as difficult a pairing as it might at first appear to be.

Each of the characters can easily be seen as the embodiment of each part of Freud's iceberg theory. Rocky, the Id and subconscious. Brad and Janet, the Super Ego. You get the picture. You can also apply his theories of sexual deviance and the push-pull of desire and morality to the storyline and character dynamics with little or no effort at all. I can say this with some confidence because I was able to do it in the three hours I gave myself before I had to hand in the essay, see.

I found the entire assignment rather inane seeing as how Freud hated film, arguing extensively against its evils. But sometimes you just have to do what the teacher says.

When I received my marks there was a note written in the margin- my teacher called it a brave essay, and gave me a middling grade.

< / First Year at CSM >

Today was my final day of first year at Central St Martins.

I can hear music blasting from every floor of the student halls. Drunks are occupying on every corner. I must be the only person not out celebrating.

"Ceeeeeeelebrate good times, come on!"

I am in my very stuffy dorm room watching bad movies and fucking up my healthy diet by eating some ice cream. My flat mates are out. I have the whole place to myself. It's lonely and rather lovely. I should watch a scary movie....

"Are you still my sunshine?"

So you probably want to know how my last day went. Well.... hm. My crit was, um, uneventful and confusing. Evil Tutor was there and as per usual he gave me NO FEEDBACK. My crit was literally three minutes long. I have no idea what he thought, or what my grade will be. Big surprise, right?

Just as a point of interest, my best London friend presented immediately after I did... She walked up to the tutor as I took my model into the bathroom to de-latex her. About 5 minutes later my model, cleaned and dressed, walked back into the room to gather her stuff, and my friend was still discussing her work with Evil Tutor. I walked my model down to the ground floor and we hugged and said goodbye and I walked all the way back up to the room where we were presenting. All in all, I was out of the room for a total of about ten minutes and when I got back my friend was STILL getting in depth feedback from Evil Tutor.

See, this is how he operates. If he loves you or hates you, he gives you TONS of feedback. If he thinks you are a lost cause or doesn't understand your work at all, he more or less ignores you completely. I am always ignored. Always have been. And not because he doesn't understand, but I can tell that he feels I'm a lost cause.

Frankly, I don't give a damn anymore. Whether or not I get kicked out, I never have to deal with that useless little fucker again.

"What is love, baby don't hurt me...." (There is some asshole on the street singing along loudly and catcalling all the cute girls that walk by. He hasn't left which means no one has fallen for his line yet.)

Oh and another point of interest- I saw my grade for the denim project today. My lowest grade yet! 28. GO ME! *roll eyes*

I guess in the end it really doesn't matter because my dress was very well received by most of the class and my model looked fabulous in it. It's only the second latex garment I've ever made. It was a laborious and tiring way to do it, but it came out looking precisely like my drawing (except for a few fitting issues that I will go fix in a little while).

Observe, readers:

So, what do you think?


I would like to end this entry with some grand, eloquent words about what I have learned from CSM. But I have no words like that at my disposal at the moment. My brain power is limited to romcoms and chocolate this evening. So instead I end this, the last day of first year (and quite possibly my last day at CSM ever) with these wise, learned words of wisdomness:

Sleep is a wonderful thing. Good night.

Latexness

My latest project looks like what would have happened if Mondrian spit out some latex fashion instead of paint.

By the way, this is many layers on top of each other. It's not quite this busy, actually.

Looking Back

Rereading my old posts this evening I have noticed a few things. First, I think it is safe to safe that I have had a really tough year. I wanted London to be an exciting adventure, and instead it has been an absolute trial. But the second thing I noticed is how I have changed so much since I moved here nine months ago.

In my reading I ran across this entry, entitled I Hope Nostalgia Makes This All Seem Better dated 18 November of last year. I talked about hoping that I would look back on that first term when I faced my fear of failing and think about it as a good ol' learning experience. Turns out that the learning experience I would look back on would be an entire year of consistent failing and fighting and picking myself up over and over again. I had no idea what was coming for me.

I had no idea that I would learn to accept failure and get over it quickly. I had no idea I was capable of being smacked down so many times and getting back up again. I had no idea what hard work really was in fact.

I had no idea that the hard work would not pay off. I had no idea that the school would be run by rule-enforcing monkeys who see in black and white. I had no idea that CSM would in fact turn out to be a fantastic school for students who already know exactly how to do what CSM wants. I had no idea that I would learn so much DESPITE CSM and not BECAUSE of it. The girl who wrote that entry would never have guesed that she would be so fed up with the bullshit at CSM that she would secretly be glad they were throwing here out so she could pursue other interests.

I had no idea that I would ever be able to get an internship. And NEVER would I have guessed that I would have the presence of mind to choose to stay in London and seek out opportunities instead of going back to the comfort of my boyfriend. The girl that wrote that on the 18th of November had no idea about anything.

And yet despite all of it, I still struggle with many of the same things I always have. The long distance relationship is still incredibly difficult for me. That has not gotten any easier- in fact it has gotten more difficult the longer I stay here. I still face the same hurdles when I get stressed out. I still struggle with feeling insignificant and untalented when faced with the talented people I study with. I am still prone to fits of utter hopelessness and despair when faced with an impossible situation, and I still find myself being unreasonably furious at The Boy when he isn't there to give me a hug and calm me down. I still find that although I am MUCH better at taking criticism, I do not have a sense of confidence within myself that will ever match the strength of complimentary words from others.

It if for all these reasons that I know I am not ready to leave Europe. I am not the person I want to be when I return home. I am far from it. But someday maybe I will get to look back on this year and find that nostalgia will allow me to see the value in the experience.

It wasn't a total waste.

Sneaking Suspicion

I have an awful suspicion that fate has a sense of humor.... I am worried that the worst of all good things might happen... now that I have finally come to terms with my forthcoming dismissal from CSM, I am suddenly worried that they will change their minds and let me stay on.

And then I'll have to decide what I want more: the end of CSM's bullshit, or CSM's name on a degree.

Dabbling

I have come to realize how stupid I would be to limit myself to only fashion. There are so many other things I want to do as well. Fabric is a limited medium and I want to expand my art beyond it. Though the term "dabble" has a sort of negative connotation, but that is exactly what I should be doing right now- dabbling in anything and everything, while specializing in nothing.

This is the time for me to try it all.

A day or two ago I went to a magazine launch where I met a really interesting man who set me thinking about diversifying my artistic view. He does a little bit of a lot of things. He is A Designer in the best sense. Meeting him reminded me that I really want to be the clothing equivalent of a Renaissance man. I want to do it all and bring all that knowledge back to my passion for style and the human form. Why on earth would I limit myself in this day and age of easily-accessible information?

This new found energy has inspired me to really delve into my new project at CSM. My Evil Tutor even noticed my excitement, and to my great surprise, I had the first encouraging tutorial I have ever experienced at CSM.

I cannot wait for school to be over in two weeks, so I can focus on expanding my horizons as An Artist and as A Designer.

Last Two Weeks

Our new project is about the future, and my new sketchbook is looking really different. Really good. I hope I can do something fabulous with it.

No word on grades of any kind from school.

And as soon as I get my portfolio back, I will take some picture for you. Looking back over my work as I created the portfolio I realize that although I am not up to the standard I would like to be, my work has improved in so many ways. Everything has changed since my first project. The way I draw has changed. The way I think has changed. The type of research I do has changed and my ability to research and expand an idea has dramatically improved.

Although my grades do not show it, I can see that I have become a stronger designer in this last year.

There is a very good chance this will be my last project at Central St Martins, so I want to go out with a bang. I cannot wait to get into this new project and work my ass off these next two weeks.

This project is different- this project I'm doing for me.

A Bit More Denim

A few of my favorite denim samples I did for the fateful Denim Project:

The Truth of It

Last term my boyfriend and I tried to open our relationship to other people. It was my suggestion, and he agreed because we both hoped it might make the distance and loneliness a little softer. Long story short, it was a short-lived disaster that nearly ended the relationship. It became a source of heartache and incredible anger. It amplified the loneliness instead of softening it.

When we agreed to close the relationship, it was because we remembered that the drive behind this venture was love; was wanting to make sure the other person was happy and taken care of, even if it was someone else who was giving them that happiness for the time being. We opted to try an open relationship because we thought it would make loneliness of the long distance relationship easier to bear. And when it seemed that it was in fact making the loneliness even less tolerable, the answer became clear. Choosing to end the experiment was simple because we remembered why we began it in the first place.



So why am I in London?

I am in London because I wanted to be my own person. I am in London because I wanted to grow and change and evolve into the woman I want to be, instead of shuffling down the more comfortable path I was on. I came to London because I wanted to grow a spine. I wanted to stand on my own two feet. I wanted to make something of myself and come back to the US with an honest understanding of who I am and what I am made of. I wanted to have grounding in myself, trust in myself, and maybe a tiny bit of confidence, however small. I came to London because I needed something bigger, something more than San Francisco in order to do all of this. I needed to see what life was like without the safety net.

None of that has anything to do with the university that is going to kick me out.

I finally remembered that CSM was not my reason for coming to London. It was the means of getting me here.

I forgot that somewhere along the way. Like the open relationship experiment, I had to remember why I began this venture in the first place. I had to realize that this trip was never about becoming the next McQueen or Galliano. It was about becoming more of myself. The hope was that the challenges presented by CSM would facilitate that, but perhaps CSM is a small and insignificant test of my will when you really think about it.

There is so much more to fashion, to London, to England, to Europe, to the world, to my own story than CSM and the year I spent struggling to please people who could never be pleased. There is so much more to life than this. And I spent this weekend remembering that.

Looking back on this last year I can begin to see that Central St Martins was never the reason I came to London. It was the catalyst that allowed me to begin my own life. It was the carrot I dangled in front of my own nose so that I would continue walking ahead.

Of course with the carrot unfairly snatched away from me, I am hysterically running in circles in blind panic. "What do I do now? What do I do now? What do I do now? The carrot is gone, I have nothing to live for."

I am slowly beginning to see that I need to stop spinning and look at the race I am running. The carrot got me here, but "here" is what was truly important.

The truth of it all is that I came to London to learn. Not to learn to sew and not to learn how to make pretty sketchbooks. The truth of it is that I came to London to learn about life and who I am. And frankly CSM was keeping me from that. I moved half way around the planet to be here and face myself. To face my weaknesses and grow stronger. To face my insecurities and learn to stand solidly in the space I occupy in this world. To face my strengths and learn how to use them.

The decision to stay in Europe and seek out life despite CSM is an easy one to make when I remember the reasons I began this adventure in the first place. The truth of it is that I came here to face myself, change myself, and hopefully become myself.

On Tutors, Bullshit, Mixed Messages, and Failure

Remember how the Dean told me I had to pass all my projects in order to even have a chance of moving on to 2nd year? Let me give you a few highlights from my project hand-in and final crit yesterday:

"You don't have any understanding of how to design, or create a sketchbook."


"You didn't do enough work, that much is clear."


Tutors: "If you were going to design a dress, I want to see all your research into dresses."
Me: "But that has nothing to do with my theme. And every time I've put that sort of research into a sketchbook, I have been told to take it out because it doesn't apply to my actual inspiration."
Tutors: "You misunderstood. If you're going to design something with pockets, I want to see that you have researched hundreds of pocket shapes. I mean look at this page. You looked into some pockets and sketched them. But your sketches aren't to the exact proportions that the photos are. Why didn't you take a moment and draw exactly what you saw?"


Tutors: "Your designs are too simple and boring."
Me: "I am sorry to argue with you, but the last time we met you told me that my design ideas were too experimental and that I needed to think about whether or not it could be sold in a shop. So I went VERY simple and focused on fabric design."
Tutors: "Yes, but now it doesn't make sense because your designs are too simple and mean nothing."
Me: "You understand why I am confused then, because my understanding was that you wanted me to stay very clean and simple even though I was working from a Dada collage artist. When I went experimental like I did here and here and here you told me no one would actually wear that."
Tutors: "Those three pages are just useless exercises in illustration, not actual designing."
Me: "I didn't think so. I was completely serious about making that into clothing until you told me not to."
Tutors: "Well, you obviously don't understand any of this then."


Tutors:" You don't have enough research or design development"
Me:" I'm confused. You told me that I had enough research and enough fabric samples to design last time we met. And the project requirements were 20 rough designs, and I did 75."
Tutors: "I told you that because you were too far behind to continue doing research. And your designs are, well.... you clearly have no understanding of how to develop an idea into designs."


Tutors: "So you did 75 design roughs. But did you really think about what each of these garments would be? I mean, look at this sketch here. Is it a tshirt? a dress? How do you get into it? What is it?"
Me: "Perhaps I misunderstood- I thought that the point of design development is to rough out ideas until you come upon something you like enough to develop further and finalize. At the time I was sketching that shirt, I was just thinking through an idea that I didn't end up using."
Tutors: "Yes, these are rough designs. But you're not answering the question your research poses by simply sketching out roughs. You need to think every detail through every time you design something. These sketches mean nothing."
Me: "So in future, when I design rough designs, I should leave them out of the sketchbook until they are finalized enough to be actual garments"
Tutors: "No, that's the point of a sketchbook, to show how to develop your ideas."
Me: ".....um??"


They proceeded to tell me in every which way that my work was awful and worthless and that I know nothing about art or design.

Ouch.

And so it ends. All I can do is phone it in for the next few weeks while I wait for the letter from the school that says I am no longer wanted as a student at CSM.

(Oh, here. I tried something new with my illustrations, since I was inspired by Dada collage artist Hannah Hoch. I should have been more rough, less lines, more color and media. But it was 4am and I was too tired to think and be creative...)

Ow.

Today I got a haircut, a pair of much-needed sandals, and a sewing needle through the tip of my finger.

I feel like an idiot. I've been sewing on industrial machines for four years and never had an accident. Now I've finally managed to sew through my finger with a simple home sewing machine. Well done, me. Well done.

And now, despite the impressive pain and surprising amount of blood loss from a single finger, I have to get back to work. I am so far behind it's scary!

At least I have nice hair again...

Denim

Current Project: Denim Design Project

Number of denim fabric dye/bleach/treatement etc samples: 15
Number of GOOD denim fabric samples: 4

Level of inspiration in regards to the project: -1

Some bleach tests, and my favorite sample so far: a print of a jeans pocket that I will then make pockets out of. Ceci n'est pas une poche.


This one isn't a sample so much as trying to recreate the color of the rusty 90 year old Levi overalls pictured as a comparison point to a more current look.



That's all for now. Nothing good to show you at the moment.

When I have a free moment I'll show you my Retrieval Project I handed in the other day. I actually liked parts of it.

I Feel Ya, Jack

Perhaps it is the bleach fumes pared with the unbearably stuffy dorm room that is leading my mind to wander, but I find myself staring at my new sketchbook and wondering if Jack the Ripper was perhaps a Central St Martins student driven to murder by piles of homework and lack of free time on beautiful sunny days like this one...

Retrieval

I just shuffled zombie-like to the school to hand in my retrieval project. Apparently they want us to come back at 3pm today to pick them up. Which means that they will probably flip through each one very quickly and grade it without a second look.

Scares me to think that my future at this school is dependent upon a 5 minute glance at my work...

I Got It

Well, it seems I now have one good thing going for me- I got a kickass internship with an up and coming designer. Yes you read that right! The girl who fails every project has been picked up by someone fabulous who will teach her the ropes.

First of all, let me say that this designer's work is amazing. You will probably hear of her in a few months if you haven't already. She is also connected with some INCREDIBLE designers, performers, and artists. These are the sort of people I want to work with. I feel so lucky that she wanted me to be a part of her work.

And she is going to teach me so much. I am already helping her make things for a few notable celebrities (I'll keep you posted). I am thrilled! I am dying to work with her again as soon as possible, even if my own work doesn't get as much of my attention as it should.

I feel much better working for someone of this caliber than someone like, say, McQueen. He is an amazing designer, but the word on the street is that he's an absolutely bitch to work for. And when you intern with a big name like that, you are a nobody. So with someone like the designer I met yesterday, I feel that she is someone who will go places and be huge, but right now she is still approachable. That is the right place for me to be.

So now, school can go to hell. I will work, but I can't be bothered to kill myself anymore. I have other, and possibly better options.

Take that CSM. I don't suck after all.