Chloe by Design: Making the Cut

by Margaret Gurevich

  Jasmine walks around the dress and examines the stitching and pleating. “Very nice,” she finally says. “I have to say, I was not expecting this.” Her face is serious, and I can’t tell what she means. From the bewildered looks on Nina’s and Daphne’s faces, neither can they.

  Finally the judges finish examining our dress and gather to deliberate.

  “I think that went well,” I whisper.

  “We’ll see,” says Nina.

  There’s a lot of nodding and head shaking as the judges discuss the three designs. I try to read their lips, but Missy sees me looking and covers her mouth with her hand. Oh, well. I was never very good at lip-reading anyway.

  “What do you think they’re saying?” asks Daphne.

  “That they’ve never seen anyone as talented as our group,” I joke.

  Nina snorts. “I wish.”

  I rub my eyes. Between the last challenge and this one, I’m exhausted. Today feels like it will never end. Finally, the judges seem to come to a decision.

  Hunter walks over to the three groups again. “Thank you for your patience,” he says. “We didn’t want to make our decision in haste.”

  “You all did a fine job, but there was one group that exceeded our expectations,” says Jasmine. “There were minor issues, but overall the design went above and beyond in terms of skill and creativity. Group three, congratulations. All three of you are safe tonight!”

  Group three?! That’s us! Nina, Daphne, and I all squeal and hug. But we don’t have much time to celebrate. There’s still an elimination to go.

  “This means,” Jasmine continues, “groups one and two, one of you is the bottom group. Tom, Shane, Curt, unfortunately, your dress just wasn’t up to par tonight. The challenge was to use duct tape or newspaper, and you instead chose to focus on trash bags. What’s more, your skirt construction was lacking. Tom and Curt, I’m sorry but you’ll both be leaving us.”

  Tom and Curt shake hands with the judges and say their goodbyes to the other boys, who look sad to see them go. The seven of us who are still in the competition high-five happily. Nina, Daphne, and I laugh as we duck from the twins’ fist bumps. When we get to the hotel, we say goodbye and head to our rooms.

  I can’t wait to crawl into bed. After tonight’s challenge, I’ll need my rest. After all, who knows what tomorrow will bring?

  “Relax,” my mom tells me as I bounce on the bed in our hotel room. It’s been two days since the last challenge, and I’m still pumped up from my team’s win.

  “I’m trying to,” I tell her. “I just can’t take the suspense. We’re supposed to meet today, and I still haven’t heard any details.” I turn on the television to distract myself, but the first thing I see is a promo for the next Teen Design Diva episode.

  “Looks like they’re airing the zoo challenge tonight,” my mom says.

  “I can’t believe that was only two weeks ago,” I say. “It feels like forever.” My designs have certainly improved since then. Just then, my phone beeps with a text message, and I scramble to grab it. The text from the judges is short and sweet. “Lobby. Now.”

  * * *

  When I get to the lobby, the judges are already there, standing by a large, opaque screen. As usual, they’re surrounded by producers and cameras. One by one, the other designers arrive. There are only seven of us now, and we all have the same nervous look on our faces.

  “It’s good to see you all again,” Missy says. “I hope you all used the past two days to rest up, because there are only three challenges left before we’re down to the top three designers. That means the grand prize, an internship with a famous designer, is almost within reach. The next two weeks will be intense.”

  “And because of that, we’ve decided that for the next few tasks, you’ll be getting some help,” Hunter chimes in.

  At his words, my fellow designers and I exchange confused looks. What kind of help? I wonder. Thankfully, the judges don’t keep us in suspense for long.

  “Our goal in this competition is to help you become stronger designers,” Jasmine says. “What better way to do that than to learn from other success stories?”

  My heart beats quickly. Who will be helping me?

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Hunter says, “after careful screening of your skills and personalities, we have paired you with very willing mentors. Just to be clear, your mentor is not here to do your designs for you. That’s your job. But their expertise will help you greatly. You should take advantage of their knowledge and experience.”

  “Especially because not too long ago, they were in your shoes,” Missy adds. She points toward the nearby screen. “When the screen moves, you’ll see your mentor on the other side holding a sign with your name.”

  With that, Jasmine waves her hand, and the screen drops. Standing behind it are contestants from past seasons of Design Diva. The cameras are poised to capture our reactions, but when I see who’s holding my name, I’m so excited I almost forget all about filming. It’s Liesel McKay!

  “Liesel!” I exclaim. I can hardly believe my good luck. “I mean Ms. McKay.”

  “Liesel, please,” she says with a smile as she walks toward me. “Ms. McKay makes me feel old.”

  “Is this okay?” I ask. “I mean, do the judges know we’ve met before?”

  Liesel nods. “Yep, that’s why they thought I’d make the perfect mentor for you,” she says. “We already know each other! Ready to head out and discuss strategy?”

  “Definitely!” I say. “Where to?”

  Liesel walks toward the doors leading out of the hotel lobby. “We’re headed to inspiration.”

  “I keep a notebook with me all the time,” Liesel tells me as we stroll down the crowded sidewalk. “I write down everything. All my ideas and inspiration. You never know what might come in handy. I’ve woken up from dreams, jotted stuff down, and in the morning found ‘banana peel’ in my notebook. Then I spend all day trying to figure out what it means.” She laughs.

  “Do you always figure it out?” I ask.

  “Not always, but it’s worth writing down anyway,” Liesel says. She lowers her voice to a whisper. “My biggest fear is running out of ideas. It’s probably the biggest fear of most designers, honestly.”

  I can’t believe that someone as successful as Liesel worries about running out of ideas. All of her clothes are so creative — and she makes jewelry and accessories on top of that. It seems like her creativity is never-ending.

  “I have the opposite problem,” I tell her. “The show gives us ideas. It’s figuring out what to do with them that’s hard.”

  “Some of them are really out there,” Liesel agrees. “But you’re definitely improving. You seem to be connecting with the work more.”

  I nod, thinking about what Jake said the other day. “I have Jake to thank for some of that,” I admit. “I came by your store a few days ago, and that’s the exact advice he gave me. Does he know you’re my mentor?”

  Liesel laughs. “Yes. It was impossible to keep it a secret from him. The producers made him sign papers swearing his life away if he breathed a word.”

  Well at least that’s one person I won’t have to keep things a secret from, I think.

  “I can’t wait until everyone knows everything,” I tell Liesel. “I hate not being able to talk with Alex about the challenges. She’s my best friend from back home. Not being able to tell her what’s going on is torture!”

  “I think I have something that will put you in a better mood,” Liesel says with a secretive grin.

  When I spot a giant sculpture of a needle threading a button, I suddenly realize where we are — the Garment District. It’s been on my list of must-sees since I first watched Design Diva. High-profile designers walk these streets every day. I bet Liesel knew coming here would provide the inspiration I need.

  In minutes, we’re sta
nding in front of the fabric store to end all fabric stores. Liesel certainly meant what she said about having something to put me in a better mood. The sign in the window says it all — Mood Designer Fabrics.

  I can’t believe I’m actually here. I whip out my phone, snap a photo of the store entrance, and send it to Alex. That’s not breaking the rules. After all, I could be here on my own, regardless of the competition.

  “Shall we?” Liesel says. She holds the door open for me, and I follow her into the elevator.

  “Mood?” the elevator operator says knowingly. Liesel nods and he pushes the button for the third floor.

  Minutes later the doors open, and I’m transported to heaven. There are rows of fabric in every type of material, print, and color imaginable. Mannequins wearing designs are posed around the store, and there are buttons, accessories, and thread everywhere. It’s like I’m in a design sanctuary. I don’t know where to go first.

  Liesel seems to sense how overwhelmed I am. “I could so easily go bankrupt in here,” she says. “Promise me you won’t let me spend more than a hundred dollars today.”

  “I’ll try,” I say. It’s a good thing we’re not allowed to bring own materials to challenges, or I’d be working off my debt for the rest of life. For today, I’ll just browse. When the show is over I can come back and stock up.

  “Follow me,” says Liesel. “And pay attention.”

  It’s hard to know what Liesel has in mind, so I try to take in everything. Swatch, the adorable bulldog and unofficial store mascot I’ve seen on Design Diva, sits on the carpet. Beside him, college students sift through earring pieces. Behind them, two elderly men measure out yards of fabric. Two punk-looking guys and two women in business suits flip through bolts of plaid fabric, while a Girl Scout troop examines hair accessories.

  Liesel stops. “So what do you think?”

  About what? I think. “I’m sorry,” I say, feeling like I’ve failed. “I don’t understand the question. What should I have been looking at?”

  Liesel smiles. “Everything.”

  Oh, great. That clears it up. “Um . . . there was a lot to see,” I say slowly.

  Liesel studies me. “You mean you didn’t notice the uniformity among the customers? You missed the pattern?”

  Darn it! I knew this place was over my head. Should I make something up? No. Better to go with the truth. I don’t want to embarrass myself any more than I already have.

  “No,” I admit, avoiding Liesel’s gaze. “I didn’t.”

  Liesel claps her hands. “Great!”

  “Excuse me?” I say, feeling like Clueless Chloe.

  “There is no pattern,” Liesel says, grinning. “That’s the point. There are all sorts of people here. You might think you know what they’re going to like, but you’d be wrong. Try thinking outside the box. Take an idea and run with it, even if you’re not sure it’s what the judges want. Because you know what?”

  “What?” I ask.

  “Even they don’t know what they want!” Liesel says. “The lack of pattern and uniformity is what makes fashion so fun. No two designers are the same. Even if everyone uses the same materials, the end results will be unique.”

  I nod. Liesel’s advice sounds like what my mom said about Nina stealing my ideas — what she does doesn’t affect me. I’m my own designer.

  “There’s more than one way to make a connection,” Liesel says. “Know your design aesthetic and go from there. But don’t be afraid to let some other inspiration in and think outside the box.”

  Liesel and I spend the next two hours wandering the aisles, discussing fabrics and designs. She shows me color combinations I would have never thought of, and I take notes on design techniques. By the time I get a text about the next challenge, Liesel has spent $99.99, and I’ve managed to accumulate some priceless information.

  The next morning, the remaining designers are up bright and early. Our next challenge starts at 7:30 a.m. at the Sony Wonder Technology Lab, and no one wants to be late. At least this time we’re not facing the judges alone. Our mentors are standing there beside us, and a giant, three-stories-tall, inflatable Spiderman clings to the glass above where we’re standing.

  “Welcome to the Sony Wonder Technology Lab,” Hunter says when everyone has gathered. “I think you’ll really enjoy today’s challenge.”

  Behind me, I hear one of the other designers snort. I can understand the skepticism. I might be excited and energized after my visit to Mood yesterday, but to say we’ll “enjoy” a challenge is pushing it. Challenges are a new kind of high-level stress.

  Hunter chooses to ignore the snort. “As you can see, Missy and Jasmine aren’t here today,” he continues. “Instead, we’ll be joined by two guest judges: Carmine Franklin and Jerome Grubin. You may not recognize their names, but I’m sure you know their work. Both Carmine and Jerome have been instrumental in the design of world-building games: Choose Your Destiny and It’s All Up to You.”

  No way! Those are the most amazing video games ever. They let you create a future life, from career to clothing to the entire city you live in. I always make myself a fashion designer, and I’m betting the other six contestants do the same.

  “Now that we’re down to seven contestants, there will be no top and bottom five,” Hunter tells us. “Instead, we will have two top spots, two middle, and three bottom. And only one person will be eliminated this round. Make sense?”

  Everyone nods in understanding, and Hunter grins. “Great. That brings me to today’s good news,” he continues. “From here on out, there will also be a winner for each challenge. For this challenge, the prize for the best design will be the opportunity to work with both Carmine and Jerome to create a line of clothing for avatars to wear.”

  All around me, the other designers gasp with excitement. I’m right there with them. Imagine players throughout the world choosing my designs for their avatars! It’s almost too good to be true.

  Hunter laughs. “So now do you believe me about this challenge being fun? You’ll have two hours to explore the lab with your mentor. Find an exhibit that speaks to you. When you’re done, you’ll have another two hours to design and create something that showcases the essence of this museum. Got it? Good. Your time starts now.”

  Liesel and I immediately head for the glass elevator, which looks like something out of a science-fiction movie. We take it up to the fourth floor, and as soon as we step off I see a Sensitile exhibit. We touch the wall, and the special material it’s made of creates unique reflections in response to our touch.

  I overhear a guide talking to a group of people. “Everything you do here,” she’s saying, “creates an impact on the lab and one another.”

  I file that away for a possible design theme, then walk with Liesel to get our ID cards. Nothing is ordinary here. For the cards, we type our names, choose a color and music genre we like, take our picture, and record our voices. Our digital profiles will be used to help personalize our experience.

  Once we have our personalized ID cards, Liesel and I move on. We stop at something called The Robot Zone, which lets visitors program one of six colored robots, each equipped with light and touch sensors. Derek and his mentor are already there. I choose a blue robot, Liesel chooses yellow, and we direct our robots around the circle. The sensors determine how the robots will act.

  “I think our robots like each other,” I say as Liesel’s yellow guy follows my blue one around.

  “I think mine likes both of yours,” Derek says as his red robot gets in on the action. We watch the three robots interact and scoot around the circle.

  “Are there enough for us?” a snippy voice asks from behind me. I turn and see Nina and her mentor, Tanya Heartly, designer of Heart Jeans, standing behind us. Nina looks irritated, as if I’ve already told her she’s not allowed to play with us.

  “Sure,” I say, and Nina picks a g
reen robot. Her robot circles the ring, trying to interact with the others. It does fine with Derek’s robot, but when it moves closer to mine, the blue robot quickly scoots away.

  I want to laugh, but Nina looks angry. “Hey,” I say, “I can’t control what it does. They decide how to interact on their own.”

  “Whatever,” Nina mutters.

  “You don’t need them,” her mentor says. “Let’s go.” With that, the two of them leave to check out the other exhibits.

  “I didn’t do that on purpose,” I say.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Liesel says, shaking her head. “She and Tanya seem to be a good fit.”

  “Yeah? What’s Tanya like?” I ask. “Did you spend much time with her on your season?”

  Liesel shrugs. “I tried to avoid her for the most part because she doesn’t have a good energy. She can be pretty cutthroat, which is kind of ironic considering the name of her brand. During our season, she sabotaged some of the other designers. She never admitted it, but we knew it was her.”

  Would Nina do that? I wonder. I’d think she’d want to win honestly, but who knows. I push thoughts of Nina out of my head and follow Liesel to the Interactive Floor. There we stand on circles of colored light that expand and contract as we move. The more we move, the more the circles interact. I walk my pink circle over to Liesel’s green one and connect them. Soon Daphne joins us and walks her circle over as well. All our colors are connected, and it looks like a pyramid. I snap a picture with my phone — maybe that’ll serve as inspiration later.

  “How much time is left?” I ask Liesel.

  “About an hour. You should probably start thinking about the direction you want to take your designs,” she suggests.

  I’ve been thinking about it since we walked in. I scan the remaining exhibit summaries to find one that will mesh with the idea I have brewing. “Let’s go to the Shadow Garden and Sand Interactive,” I say.