I don’t know what it is about the look, form and feel of fashion, but it is something that has had my attention since my teens. I would look at the clothes people were wearing, how I could make changes to it, and how it seemed kind of ludicrous for people to spend hundreds of dollars on something that I knew I could make myself at home. This is what began my journey into the world of fashion, and though that statement generally conjures up images of runways and catwalks across the Parisian scenery, my little shop on a side street in my home town is where I apply my trade.
I may not be gracing the covers of high fashion magazines, or having high profile celebrities wearing my creations on the red carpet of some swanky awards ceremony, but there is a sense of satisfaction when I’m grocery shopping and see a mother of two walking around in one of the blouses I made, or seeing a student heading to their prom in one of my dresses. These are the reasons I got into fashion. To bring an alternative for those who want to look their best without having to fork over hundreds of dollars. I may not produce the name designs that the biggest players in the industry do, but I know there is an intimate sense of quality to everything I put out, and that I have a loyal fan base here in my hometown that keeps the lights on.
I think my sense of style was originally influenced by my grandmother. She was a short, quiet lady who allowed her outside look do most of the talking for her. She was amazing at accessorising with all forms of brooches, pendants, earrings, and other costume jewellery, and though our family wasn’t well off my any means, she carried herself with the grace of a woman who had been in high society her entire life. She was also a wizard with a needle and thread, able to take care of any clothing that had outlived it’s expiration date, with never an obvious patch to be seen. When you’re coming from a background of making the most out of the little you have, these skills were a necessity.
I was really the only one who took after her in this regard, I would spend time watching her either sew, or knit, or even crochet on occasion. Watching her hands at work was kind of mesmerizing, and seeing her take a patch of cloth, or a ball of yarn, and turn it into something completely new was nothing short of miraculous in my young eyes. By the time I was reaching middle school I was already learning how to do some of it myself, with her guidance, and from that point I never really looked back, just continually trying to get better at it, and to see what I could create out of my own visions when it came to fabrics.