That time.

Ok. So this is the post where I say things like "Wow! I can't believe that today is the last day of school!" and "This year flew by so fast!" and "I'm really nervous about starting my internship so soon." And then the post would turn into roughly 6.5 paragraphs about my fears of disappointing myself at my internship and I'd make it extremely clear, in case you still were a little unsure, how much I really, truly, absolutely do hate how hot the weather is in New York City summers.

You guys know what post I'm talking about. You've definitely read it before. So I'm having a hard time justifying taking the time to write it all again. Because what else is there to add that hasn't been said before?

I've given it some thought and here are a few new-ish thoughts:

1. After a uncomfortably long day working on homework with just myself and my iPod with incredibly too much time left alone to think about this summer (read: begin to panic about this summer), I seriously considered canceling all of my plans and just trekking on home for my last summer ever.
2. Decided against it. Barely.
3. I am packing nearly half of the amount of clothes I did last summer. Not sure what the significance of that is, but I feel strongly that it should be recorded. Maybe it suggests some sort of subliminal comfortability with minimalism that I'm going through or perhaps a contentment with who I am and that I'm not relying on possessions to define me. Or maybe it just means that I'm bringing less stuff.
4. Hard to explain, but I think that I may feel even less prepared for this summer right now than I did at this point last year. It's like I know too much. I'm more aware of what is about to take place and therefore more aware of all of things that are completely out of my control.
5. I really hope this summer is better than last summer. Like, really, really hope.

Ok! I'm going to sign off there.

Leaving for Dallas immediately after my last class this afternoon and then getting to New York on Sunday!

As always, will keep you posted.

Work

Today marks the one week mark. One more week of school. And exactly one more week until I start my internship at Vera Wang. 

Excuse me while I have this small panic attack. 

But, instead of focusing on the mountain of things that I have to get done in the next few days, I thought I'd post some very crude pictures of the four garments that I've made for classes this quarter now that they are all officially FINISHED. Say it with me: FINISHED. Ahh.... feels good. 

It's pretty handy to have a gorgeous lady living with you as your own personal fit model. And all I have to do is ask nicely! Thanks, Spence! 

Ok, here is my final garment for my Evening Wear Class. This was inspired by the late 70's disco club scene. This class was fun because it was an elective, which meant that it was really just time to play do something fun with not a lot of pressure. 

Here is the first garment I made for my Apparel 3 class. The point of Apparel 3 (or at least my apparel 3 class) is too make things that are extremely diverse not only in inspiration, but in technique, fabrication and silhouette as well. And maybe by the end of the quarter, you will have stumbled upon an idea or concept that excites you so much that you might want to expound upon it for your senior collection. This dress was inspired by Scandinavian Pottery Design and Scandinavian pattern. I used red canvas and roll printed my own floral pattern down all six (yes, six) yards of fabric and then made super deep pleats to create really extreme volume and proportions. 

For the second Apparel project, we were required to do something that was considered conceptual design. What is conceptual design? This idea is very much up to interpretation, but the easiest way to define it is something that is designed and or fabricated less with the idea of it actually being worn on a day to day basis and more to showcase and technique or to make a commentary on a specific topic. My inspiration was the Soviet Union and more specifically the idea of surveillance. I utilized the laser cutter we have at SCAD and cut rectangles out of a lightweight wool and then topstitched silver taffeta back into the cut outs to create the illusion of a window. 

For my final project in Apparel, we chose either a time period or an artistic movement as a starting point. I chose the Belle Epoque of French and Belgian history and used two different laces to create this dress. I like it. Sometimes I don't. I think I'm just tired of of looking at it. AND CAN IT BE FRIDAY ALREADY?

So, that's it! It's fun to look back and see all that I've accomplished in the last handful of weeks, both in-class and things that are just for fun, and to be (mostly) proud of it all.  I can't wait to shoot all of these garments and really see them come to life.

Memorial Day

In the midst of finals and the end of the school year (no days off here), it's easy to forget about the true meaning of this holiday-- all of the men and women who have served and are serving our amazing country in ways that are small and  in ways that are immeasurably huge. And not only those in uniform, but the families and loved ones that sacrifice so much of what they have to be the amazing support system to our heroes.

They're the reason for our rich past and they're the reason for our promising futures.

So happy Memorial Day! And God Bless America.

Discuss

Just finished watching this TED Talk called "Why 30 is not the new 20" by Dr. Meg Jay and my mind is reeling.

I'm watching it alone in my bed, alternating between the neon signs flashing in my head "Yikes!" and then "Yes!"

A perfect mixture of terrifying and inspiring.

But, I could not agree with her more.

I totally identify with nearly every point she just made, not only how it relates to myself, but my generation as a whole.

And I'm wondering, where do I fall on the scale of preparedness?

I feel that this completely hits the nail on the head the sense of urgency, responsibility and stress I've felt since I started college (and admittedly, perhaps much earlier).

Simply put, the idea that I'd better get started with life because the clock is ticking and the time is now.

As far as peers and the media's portrayal of my current 20 somethings, the idea of the floundering, yolo-crazed loafer rings so true that it's almost laughable. She's right. They're everywhere.

But when I really break it down to my life and the ebbs and flows of young adulthood that I've wrote about on this very blog, I think I have quite possibly, the complete opposite problem.

Motivation is there. Drive in tact. Appropriate doses of pressure from parents who expect me to succeed as a self-sustaining adult: check. I mean, I've got the makings of a young lady who I feel Dr. Jay would label as "on track." So much so that I've been the girl on the couch talking to the psychotherapist and hearing her say that I need to take a beat and take some pressure off.

Calculated and scheduled, my preparedness introduces me into a new sub-group: The Never-Satisfied Always-Reaching 20 Somethings.

This is the catch 22.

Be like them and spend your twenties confused, wasteful and lazy.

Be like me and spend your twenties controlled, stressed and pin-point focused.

Both paths sound terrible. And both paths sound to me like they are taken out of fear. 

What do you guys think?

Twenty somethings-- do identify with her points?

Thirty somethings-- do you feel like your twenties were spent wisely?

Forty-somethings and up-- what are your thoughts?

My clock is ticking.

Oh, and by the way, internship starts in t-minus 14 days.

Dress Code Confessions

Did I mention that as a part of my internship with Vera Wang this summer, I am required to wear all black all the time? I'm talking black on black on black on black on black. I even sent them a frantic email verifying whether or not this included shoes and accessories. Surely, there was no way they'd put such tyrannical requirements on even my feet! I got an email back confirming in big, bold, black letters that shoes count too. I whimpered in fear. 

All black? Me? Have you seen my closet? Here, I'll just show you. 

There's like one black thing in there. And it's covered in polka dots. It's like Liberace, Springtime and a color wheel had an orgy and then manifested themselves on a bunch of floral printed dresses! I do black like once a quarter when I'm being ironic. Or strategically moody to emotionally manipulate my friends. Or when I'm menstruating. But I digress.  

This whole situation is consuming me and I've been on the hunt for work appropriate, Julia approved, Vera worthy, and budget friendly black clothes for weeks now. Online shopping is my drug and I won't stop til I get enough. I am constantly making people listen to me talk about my need for more black blouses, but how hard it is to find them (seriously so much harder than you'd think). Or shoes. Have you looked for comfortable, closed-toed, stylish, black shoes lately? Because I have. And they actually don't exist. Oh and PS- not sure if you remember me complaining for 10 weeks about this last year, but in case you were unaware, New York City in the summer is a literal sweat lodge/ toaster oven of a town that leaves you on a street corner or in an underground subways station in a puddle of rage, begging for God to turn the AC back on. This isn't an overreaction or an exaggeration. This is real. And I'll be the one wearing all black. 

ANYwho... it will be amazing because this also happens to be my dream internship and an experience of a lifetime, but I just keep staring at my clothes, all the blues and reds and pinks and loud prints and apologizing quietly like a mother who is about to abandon her children because they don't fit on the back of her new boyfriend's motorcycle and into her new life. Or, maybe even worse, I feel like Justin the day he told Joey, Lance, JC and Chris that he was flying solo. Can you just imagine the look in their eyes when he showed up, probably wearing all black, to tell them that he was saying Bye, Bye, Bye? Ugh. It kills me every time. 

UNFINISHED

Last night I had my first dream about my senior collection. 

Oh. Did I say dream? I meant nightmare. 

In my dream (which was set in a black and white silent film, by the way) it was the day of the jury show and I was showing my collection to the judges to be considered for placement in the final show. Everything was going fine until one of the judges dramatically pointed to my feet. When I looked down, the word "UNFINISHED" was written across all ten of my toes. And then, simultaneously all of the judges turned their backs to me and asked me to leave the room. End of dream.

That's all I remember. I woke up in a panic. Looked at my toes, just to be sure. No letters. Just some chipped red nail polish. But it didn't matter that it was just a dream. The damage to my morning had already been done. 

I blame last Friday. Registration day. I don't think I need to explain the terror which reigns down in my life every quarter when it's time to register, but I do think it's necessary to point out that this quarter's registration felt in some ways much more weightless than usual. The normal bound-by-time drudgery of school's eminent end is slowly fading away. Suddenly, instead of looking forward to three or even two years remaining of school and it's ever growing comfort levels in my own mind, I was on Friday and am now today looking down the timeline at one single year left. It's like I could feel the little control I have (or think I have) in my own life slowly running out of the palms of my hands, down my arms, running off my elbows, and disappearing into the ground.  

AND I'M STARTING TO PANIC. 

I have found myself acting out in the following ways: 

1. I stole a brick from the front of Eckburg the other day. The path up to the fashion building is paved with a junkyard of loose red bricks that mark the tragic failure of countless fashionistas attempting to wear heels to class (don't ask me why) and instead meeting the embarrassing pain of tripping and falling on their way into the building with everyone watching them. It's happened to me. It's happened to everyone. These bricks are the great equalizers. They are humility in a building full of egos. They are, simply put, justice. 

So, as I was on my way home from a particularly frustrating day of work this weekend, wearing a pair of converse that could only say "Hi, I'm a junior and I've stopped trying to be sartorially impressive, ok?" I tripped for perhaps the 8th or 9th time this year. I didn't swear or gasp or even blink. I calmly reached down, grabbed the brick who's chipped corner was to blame, and tossed it in my purse as a warning to all of the other bricks. No more Mr. Nice Guy. 

2. I've been spending a significant amount of my time staring lately. At walls. At tables. At floors. Out windows. You've got something that needs staring at for no specific reason, I'm your gal. 

3. Going on long, rainy drives in my car with no real destination or goal. And I leave the radio off to make it extra sad, really just letting my thumbs dig deeper and deeper into the self pity. 

The beauty of Savannah is that it is laid out in a grid, so besides the occasional stop sign, you can literally go down the same street in a straight line for nearly an hour. And you want to know what's at the end of our street that I drove down for nearly an hour? A FREAKING FORK IN THE ROAD. Nope. Totally not kidding. 

But, what sort of behavior is this, Julia? Productive? No. Helpful? No. Environmentally Irresponsible? Yes. 

4. I ate a whole box chocolate covered pretzels over an embarrassingly short period of time. But that's less unusual, so let's move on. 

The whole point of all of this mess is that I think I'm beginning to see the end in sight. And not just the end of college, but the end of my projected plan. For my entire life, although I had hopes and blurry images of what my life would be like, the clear and attainable picture of my known goals ended with college. For me, it was the last check mark on a list of things that could be planned and timed on a calendar of specific dates. Marriage, kids... those things would all come, but who knows when so there wasn't any point in waiting on them. 

But the Road of Next's is coming to end. And I'm back at that fork in the road and letting it stop me dead in my tracks. 

A Hard Weekend to Follow

I know it's already Wednesday, but I'm still thinking about last weekend. And oh, what a wonderful weekend it was. Cooking with herbs fresh out of the SCAD garden, a healthy sprinkling of homework, drinks with the most beauteous of ladies... and then coffee the next morning. 

It was one of those weekends where I felt like I was laughing about something for days straight-- and it was just enough of a [mental] vacation that I just might be able to make it through the end of the quarter. Maybe.