Structure, and A Change in Perspective

I am applying for a job at the CSM library. My job, if I get it, would only involve working for an hour each day, but it would do me some good having to be in the library each day. Not only will I be surrounded by all the pretty books, but it would provide me with some structure in an otherwise unstructured school environment. It would force me to go to school every day, which would in turn help me focus on working on my projects a lot more. And it would give me a little spending cash to help at the end of the month when I am super broke. So, let's hope I get a job!

Speaking of unstructured learning, I am writing to you from home right now, and it's Friday morning. See, I should be at school. Well, no I shouldn't, because today's tutorial would have been a waste of my time. I have more important projects to spend my time on. This week has been a series of tutorials on basic sewing. So basic in fact I could have taught the classes, and I am not by any means a talented seamstress. I have been incredibly bored these past few days. So instead of sewing a basic cuff on a basic sleeve all day long, I am working on my fashion show project.

I plan to hit my favorite coffee shop up Brick Lane and spend a few hours trying to focus all my energy into 100+ rough sketches of clothing ideas, one of which will end up being brought to life and shown in two small runway shows in four weeks.

Coming from a school where you had less than a week to make each garment, the idea of having four weeks to work on a single outfit is THRILLING. I have to make something amazing this time. Not only do I have to recover from a failing grade on my last project, but I need to show people that I am not The American Girl That Sucks At Fashion School. No, fuck other people- I need to show MYSELF that I am not that girl. I feel like that girl a lot these days.

I was e-catching up with a very dear friend of mine from San Francisco yesterday, and I mentioned that I failed my first project. He congratulated me. He said, "I wish our last school had failed me more. I turned in total shit sometimes, and they still passed me because they were afraid of giving real criticism. You used to bitch about the lack of honest grading all the time, remember?" I do remember. One of my biggest complaints about my last school was the lack of constructive criticism. What I turned in was always above average (because our average was so low) and so I almost never got any sort of feedback about how to improve my work.

In fact I have found in the past week that failing my last project has been freeing in ways I could never have anticipated. I am not a model student here, I am not a shining example of anything. I tried, and I failed. Suddenly I am not in a guilt-ridden panic about skipping sewing class. Suddenly I am not terrified of disappointing my teachers. Suddenly I find that school is no longer about grades and doing well by any traditional standards. School is now about Me, and What I Get From It.

Many of the major fashion designers to come out of CSM (Alexander McQueen, Galliano, Stella McCartney, Zac Posen, Gareth Pugh, Hussein Chalayan, etc) have stated in interviews that they didn't receive high marks at school. I've heard that some of the tutors downright despised their work. Yet these are innovative designers at the top of their field.

It's funny that a failing grade should grant me an entirely new perspective on school and my role as a student. School is no longer about getting impressive marks from my tutors or trying to be a shining golden student at the top of my class. I now see that my tutors are there to inform me, to assist me in making the things I see in my head come to life. I am not beholden to them or their opinions of me or my work. I am the one in control. This is my education, and it is their job to facilitate my learning. If they don't like my aesthetic, so what? I'm not here to please anyone but myself. So anyone who doesn't like it can go to hell.

High Heels and a Short Short Skirt

Today I wore black high heeled boots, gray tights, and a very short black dress under an "old man" sweater. I live in a devout Muslim neighborhood, see. I got this look a lot today:

I think people thought I was a stripper all day. Also, the heels made me about 6'2", so that didn't help me blend into my surroundings, either....

Redhead At Work

The Beatles playing loudly; sunlight coming through the gray clouds in blasts and spurts; a cold breeze reddening the tip of my nose; the smell of paint and gesso drying... Lukewarm tea with milk and no sugar; shreds of fabric and used sand paper littering the floor; fingers covered in dried acrylic; using the hairdryer to dry clumps of paint...

I took the day off from class to work on homework.

Catching Up: Everything Else

In the last week and a half I have been in a minor car accident in a cab (yes, I am alright), invited to a high school reunion of sorts, got my sleek white G1 phone that I LOVE (which thankfully allows me to feel connected to the world again), bruised my right hand to the point of sporting a purple egg-shaped swollen thumb for a few days, given directions to IKEA delivery people, carried huge heavy boxes all the way to my dorm room before building all the furniture, and found out that my older brother is getting married on April 1st (no, it's not a joke).

On top of that I took my friends from out of town to see Roger Hiorn's Seizure, began wearing hats, learned that leather boots do not protect your feet from the rain, and have been in good with the gods that decide who gets a cold from the constant chill of London.

I currently have two plants that will undoubtedly die at my hands in the coming weeks, and a new set of red flannel sheets (thank you boyfriend!). I have FINALLY fixed the broken item that arrived in my moving boxes, and have unpacked the last box of stuff I've had sitting around for weeks in my dorm room. I am in the process of setting up a claim to get back all the VAT charges customs threw at me last month, and assisted our pattern drafting teacher last week with teaching the class (which was so much fun, I will go into more detail later!)

Obama won the election and I almost cried from happiness when I found out. For the first time in my adult life I don't feel the need to apologize for being an American. I see people on the train reading the paper with a huge picture of Obama on the front and I feel like telling them that I voted for him, that I was a part of that. It's a good feeling, and I am still thrilled every time I think about our next president!

So things are busy, things are good, and I have five weeks to make something amazing and beautiful before I fly home for the holidays. Whew! So much to do....

Catching Up: Boyfriend Visit

The Boy came to visit me on Monday and left this morning. We had a very full week of activities around the city while I played the role of utterly unprepared fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants tourguide girlfriend.

We went to the British Museum and looked at the mummies (did you know the Egyptians even mummified fish?) and went to Burough Market to buy delicious Turkish Delight. We walked along the south bank and rode on the London Eye. We walked a Jack the Ripper tour around my neighborhood (I know so many distressing facts about Spitalfields and The City now) and tried lots of yummy Indian food along Brick Lane. I showed him the Splendor that is Top Shop, and we wandered all around Soho in the rain. I took him to Forbidden Planet, and I took him to Camden. We saw Quantum of Solace (which isn't out in the US yet) and had salt beef bagels on Brick Lane. He found some super cool clothes, and bought me some awesome boots. We went to the Francis Bacon exhibit (which was AMAZING and has inspired me on two different projects for uni) and he saw Big Ben and Parliament and Westminster Abbey. We had disappointing fish and chips, many gin and tonics, delicious burgers, and lots of Indian sweets.

We slept in and snuggled whenever the morning schedule permitted it and we walked around holding hands, especially when it was cold and neither of us had gloves. And there was sex. Thank god almighty there was sex. Fucking hell, there was sex. Thank you, jesus. I owe you one.

So all in all, I would say it was a very busy and very good week. It was funny, though. I am so used to our life in a San Francisco context, that seeing him here made me fall back into old patterns. I kept catching myself expecting to go back to his place, or thinking it was garbage day at my old apartment. It was very easy to forget that I was in London now, and living the lonely, poor, and cold student life. I felt a little on edge the whole time my boyfriend was here because I was never quite sure where I was.

But one very important thing happened when it came time for him to leave. I was okay. There were a few tears but I was, and am, fine. As I watched him leave on the train I knew I would be alright because my life in London is all about me. In these last few months I have managed to carve out a tiny, boring little life that is all mine. London is my city- a place where I am going to figure out who I am and what I want. My life here is completely and totally my own life.

So I realized as his train disappeared into the tunnel that my boyfriend is a wonderful addition to what is already a very full life, instead of a boyfriend-shaped hole that subtracts from my life in his absence. So I kissed him goodbye and went to class, and although I miss him and will sleep fitfully for a few nights, all in all I am okay.

Catching Up: My First Failure

I failed my first big project.

But it's okay. Surprisingly, I don't really care. When I began classes I decided to not let my grades matter as long as I felt I was learning something new.

I can shrug off the pathetic grade I earned, and I would have forgotten about the whole thing already had it not been for one issue that is nagging at me, and my entire class...

Our complaint is that we did not receive ANY feedback from our tutors on our projects. After many of us had pulled all-nighters, we all arrived early last Friday to turn in our projects. Our The tutors arrived to send us away for a few hours while they reviewed our work. By the time we were allowed back into the room (some four or five hours later), they pointed out three things they liked on three separate projects and then said, "see you on Monday," and left.

I was furious! I felt like my project was terrible, but I couldn't figure out exactly why it seemed so terrible to me. I wanted some direction. I wanted some guidance from my teachers. Honestly I would have been happy to have my project ripped to shreds publicly, as long as they told me why they hated it and how to make it better.

But we were sent home without any sense of what they wanted, or how to improve our work. When our grades were posted a few days ago two of the three projects they had pointed out and liked did not even receive high marks. We are all very confused and angry.

So far, our complaints have fallen upon deaf ears. Our tutors seem reticent to give us any feedback whatsoever. But my classmates and I have decided to get together and go over each other's work and grades and see if we can acertain what it is they liked based upon who got good grades.

We have already begun our next project, and I have GOT to figure out how to focus, kick my own ass, stretch myself in every way, and create something incredible.