10/21/24

As much as I do derive a considerable amount of joy from writing in-depth psycho analysis' of whatever thought I most recently got stuck with that could have been quickly summarized into a single tweet instead of a fully length essay, I equally derive joy from rambling about whatever else occurs in my head. It's safe to say that this blog has strayed more than far from the path of its original intention, largely due to my belief that too many people are interested in 'fashion' at this point for me to have anything original or unique to say beyond repeating the cynical and critical points I have already beaten to death. The downside, however, is that I continue to be a fashion student, and one with a belligerent interest in it no matter how hard I try to convince myself to care passionately about literally anything else. As my senior year progresses and I struggle more and more to have a life of my own outside of my fashion education, I wanted to take a moment to write a blog in the vein of how Christian of 2022 might have, essentially minimizing what could be a substantial body of work to a self-indulgent therapy session between me and myself. 

Before today, I've posted about a month's worth of blogs within the last three months. Since the start of this semester, I have been entirely, 110% consumed by school, and as much as I think about and want to be posting well-thought-out blogs, the reality is I simply don't have as much time to do both school and writing that is essentially for myself and my enjoyment exclusively as I have in previous terms. One of the largest contributing factors to this time crunch I've found myself in can be narrowed down to poor planning - on my part and the part of my still somewhat new major. Fortunately for the younger classes, but unfortunately for me, my school's fashion program is still in the process of finding solid footing, thus this year specifically resulted in some conflicts that they have now set up specific routes in the scheduling of classes to avoid. However, I am now stuck taking three separate three-hour-long studio classes, none of which coordinate assignment deadlines or accommodate for the sheer amount of work placed upon seniors' shoulders; not that they're necessarily expected to. For the last -almost- three months, I have done essentially nothing but class, homework, eat, sleep, repeat, with maybe an hour or two of wiggle room in the morning for the gym and breakfast, though that isn't always guaranteed. What's more, Katie and I were academic enough to sign up to take place in a scholarship at the same time, neither of us really starting on it until the school year had already commenced; a 21-slide, thoroughly researched case study surrounding the topic of technology in fashion, with which we got to decide what avenue to go down in regards to what technology and where in fashion. Just shy of three months into the first semester, I have designed three/four different collections, and began constructing 3 separate looks, none of which are one piece, and created a case study centering on the utilization of AI to manipulate pattern sizes to allow for more gender-fluid size gradations, and gone through almost an entire notebook worth of sketches, tech flats, and illustrations - not to mention the two other classes that aren't studios I also am required to take. To summarize, I've been tired, drained, and on the verge of death for most of that time, and as much as I do want to and hope I can continue posting blogs more consistently as the case study has concluded and more free time is now available to be, I've had to cut my losses. 

Stressful as all of that may have been, the silver lining is the confidence completing it all has instilled in me. If you can recall, and as I stated earlier, my interest in fashion is uneasy. Largely due to the overpopulation, and therefore overconsumption of the same symbols, styles, and thoughts, a big part of it is also simply a fear of failure, and what's more, uncertainty in my role within it all. I saw an article - more realistically it was most likely a TikTok - that said those who grew up uncomfortable don't grow to have big dreams. Growing up with that uncertainty, whether it be financial, familial, social, or all of the above, distills a craving for more obtainable objects, and while the dreams may continue to be big, the long-term goal relies more heavily on gaining that sense of comfort they never got. Those who grew up paycheck to paycheck don't want to be rich, they just want to be able to replace a ruined article of clothing without worrying about the electric bill. Fashion, and art in general, are of interest to me, and an environment that, like no other, I know is where I belong, but when push comes to shove, I would rather have a job I'm okay with and live the non-work-life that I want, than become homeless trying to get the job of my dreams. And as I've gone further into fashion, discovering the reality of what the industry is like for those successful and not-so-much within it, it scares me more and more. I've lived life with my electricity being shut off, without AC, with that discomfort of knowing we weren't comfortable, and I have no strong desire to thoroughly struggle to achieve a goal that grows harder and harder to obtain with every nepobaby and influencer that cracks their way into it before those who do what I'm doing ever get the chance to. It isn't a matter of feeling like I'll never make it, nor that I do not have the skills to develop to stand out on my own, simply that I do not have the strength to withstand the hours, the measly paychecks, and the scrutiny, all for the long term goal. That being said, these last three months have wavered that feeling for me. Not necessarily in the sense that I feel the willingness to do all that, or a newfound strength that wasn't there previously, but rather a new sense of self-assuredness that, if I do at some point want to push myself in that way, I am physically and mentally capable of it. I can do the 12-hour days, the lack of sleep, the finishing of one task simply to start on another immediately after, the sheer and constant hopelessness, and being proud of something that the higher-ups tell you to redo. 

This has in many ways alleviated some of the stress collected over the last few years. Despite firm confidence in still wanting to go in an English direction over a Fashion one, knowing that if at some point down the line, I change my mind and do desire a more design-focused career as I had thought I did when I chose my major is certainly a step in the right direction. This year as a whole has been one that has resulted in a lot of self-reflection. Starting the year in the mental space that I did, I've felt both the work I've put in, as well as the work that came undone as a result. It's becoming increasingly apparent to me that that may be an annual feeling, not only an aspect of aging but an element of life that for some reason is inevitable. As many years as I've felt I've grown into myself more, there are and will always be occurrences that require a step back and a significant amount of time to rebuild that person, or what's more and somewhat worse, rebuild into a different more accurate person. It's an aspect of life that I'm trying - actively - to appreciate as it goes on.