Chloe by Design: Measuring Up

by Margaret Gurevich

  “Not like you’d care,” says Alex. “You’re lucky. You just wear a suit and call it a day. A shirt with color would be wild and crazy for you.”

  “That is correct,” says Dan. “I’m a no-frills kind of guy.”

  “And that’s why you’re awesome,” Alex says, taking his hand.

  Just then my phone pings, saving me from further Alex-Dan mushiness. It’s an email from one of the Design Diva producers with photos of all the designs I did for the show. They sent photos of everything I ever made, including my audition stuff. How sweet! I feel myself getting sentimental and pull myself together. But not fast enough.

  “What’s up?” Alex asks, separating herself from Dan long enough to peer at my phone.

  “Just one of the producers from Design Diva.” I show her the photos. “I emailed to get photos of the pieces I made.”

  “Nice! That’ll help with the college application stuff, for sure.”

  “I can’t wait until that’s finished,” Jada says, overhearing Alex’s comment. And just like that we’re off the fashion show topic and onto college talk again. “I’m applying early decision, so it’s going to be crazy until the November deadline, but then I’m home free.”

  “Ugh!” Mia says. “I’d die if I had to submit stuff that early. But at least I don’t have to make a bunch of different portfolios like Chloe. I so feel for you, girl.”

  “What do you mean?” I say. Clearly Mia doesn’t know what she’s talking about. “I’m planning to use the same designs and portfolio for all the schools.”

  Mia shakes her head. “My older sister is at FIDM, and she had to have different sketches for every school she applied to,” she says, oblivious to Alex waving her hands in the air. Finally, Mia notices. “What are you doing? Is there a fly?”

  I slump down in my chair. “No, Alex just knows all this college stuff is kind of freaking me out, and she wanted me to live in my happy place a little longer. It’s just a little overwhelming.”

  Mia frowns. “Sorry, Chloe. I figured you already knew. My sister had all kinds of designs. I think one was amusement-park themed. I can ask her, if you want.”

  “No,” I say weakly. “That’s okay. Don’t ask.”

  “You sure?” Mia takes out her phone, ready to make the call.

  I nod and put my head in my hands. Just yesterday I was feeling terrific about my progress. Now, I see I have so much more to do. When I get home, I just want to crawl under the covers and not think about all the work ahead of me.

  “So, back to the fashion show,” says Dan, changing the subject, even though I know he couldn’t care less about the show.

  “Right,” says Jada, picking up on his cue. “I’m hoping for some sleek evening dresses. Something classy.”

  “Chloe?” Alex says, trying to draw me in to the conversation. “How about you? What are you thinking?”

  I barely hear her. All I’m thinking about are the portfolio requirements I have no interest in looking up. And an imaginary pop star whose wardrobe I need to create.

  By Saturday, the school gym has been transformed into fashion central. You can barely tell it was ever a gym. Tables have been set up on one side, and the floor is covered in a shimmery white fabric. A stage and speakers have been placed at the front of the room, and lights surround the runway. I had my doubts about what kind of fashion show the school could pull off, but it honestly doesn’t look that different from the shows in New York City.

  “Wow! This is so impressive,” I say to Alex when we arrive.

  “I know! I didn’t expect that at all,” she agrees. “It reminds me of the runways in NYC from when I came to visit.”

  We share a smile, remembering our time together at Stefan’s Fashion Week show, and I feel more in my zone than I have in weeks. I feel like Alex and I are connected, like we have our own special relationship the others don’t. The fact that we’re at a fashion show puts me more in my element too. For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel left out.

  I catch a glimpse of Nina behind the stage helping the models with some alterations and walk over. For a second, I wish I’d come back from New York sooner. Then I could be helping at the show too. But the thought quickly passes. Today, I’m glad I get to relax with my friends and not deal with the runway angst.

  Alex sees some friends at a nearby table and makes her way over while I duck backstage to say hi to Nina. I’m trying to be nice because she’s been civil lately. And, like it or not, Nina and I probably have the most in common when it comes to college applications.

  “Hey,” I say to Nina. “How’s it going? Staying sane back here? Fashion shows are a lot of work.”

  Nina shoots me an unreadable look. “I’m sure this doesn’t compare to New York, but I’m doing what I can.” Her tone is a little snippy, which could be because she’s stressed with last-minute details or because she thinks I’ve come to brag — knowing Nina, probably a little of both.

  “Actually, this set-up is really amazing,” I say.

  Nina pauses mid-pin and glances my way. “You’re not being sarcastic?”

  “Nope.”

  Nina looks confused for a minute, but then forces a smile. “Thanks.”

  “Sure. Good luck.”

  “Where’d you disappear to?” Alex asks when I sit back down at our table.

  “I just ducked backstage to say hi to Nina and see how things are going,” I reply.

  “Nina? You and Nina were actually having a pleasant conversation?” Alex says, looking shocked.

  I shrug. “Seems like. You have to admit she’s been nicer this year since I got back,” I say. “Maybe she’s finally decided to bury the hatchet since it’s senior year.”

  “Hmm… well, I don’t know. I still wouldn’t trust her completely.”

  “We’re not sharing clothes or anything just yet, but…” I want to say I have a feeling that Nina will understand how anxious I am about all the portfolio stuff, but I know that will make Alex feel like I’m somehow saying she doesn’t get it.

  “A fashionista doesn’t change her polka dots that easily,” Alex says, letting me off the hook. “That’s all I’m saying.”

  I laugh. “Look at you trying to make a fashion analogy. That’s so cute.”

  Alex gives me a playful shove.

  “What’s cute?” Jada asks just then as she and Mia arrive and grab seats at our table.

  “Alex being fashion-y,” I say.

  Mia grins. “It does take a little getting used to,” she says.

  Jada looks confused. “I’m missing something, right?”

  Alex blushes. “Well, let’s just say that before this past summer I wasn’t the put-together fashion icon you see before you.” She gets out of her chair and pretends to strut down an imaginary catwalk to show off this evening’s style: a black short-sleeved sweater, blue jeans with the bottom cuffs rolled up, and black chunky sandals.

  We all crack up, and Alex makes her way back to her seat. Just then, the lights dim and the music starts. I immediately snap to attention.

  This is where I belong.

  Everyone focuses on the runway, and a moment later, the model walks out in a green A-line dress that falls to her knees. It has a deep V-neck, a cinched waist, and pouf sleeves. It reminds me of the party dresses Alex and I loved when we were little kids. The dress has potential, but I wouldn’t wear it as is. It’s a little too youthful and basic.

  I take out my sketchpad and draw the design on the runway on one side, then imagine how I’d change it on the other. I make the hemline asymmetrical, so it’s shorter in the front than the back. I also change the sleeves from poufy to fluted. This way, they start off fitted but then flare out by the wrists. They would look pretty in a sheer material too.

  Alex leans over and peeks at my drawing. “That’s beautiful,” she whispers. “I would so w
ear that.”

  As the show continues, I keep one eye on the runway and the other on my sketchpad. I try to capture the dresses I love, as well as the ones I’d tweak to better fit my style.

  Lola James’s new song — about life in New York — floods the speakers, and I take that as a sign and doodle, New York + fashion = Chloe’s favorite things across a new page of my sketchpad. Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m using Lola James as my model and drawing my Winter Formal designs on her.

  Then it hits me — she can be my pop star for my portfolio! She’s one of my favorite singers, and her songs are the perfect inspiration too. They’ll give me plenty of ideas for outfits she’d wear for different occasions: out with friends, to red carpet events, or when she’s just chilling on the couch writing music.

  Brightly colored dresses fill the runway, and I add them to my sketchbook, changing some so that the colors act as accents rather than the majority of each dress. I change the backs too. I draw crisscross straps made of rhinestones on one sketch. On another I change the back design to a scoop back.

  Remembering the art deco-inspired work I did for Laura and Taylor during my internship, I spice up some designs with embellishments. One dress gets a beaded bodice, while another gets a V-neck studded with crystals.

  By the time the fashion show draws to a close an hour later, I have more than ten pages of sketches, my pop star picked out, and a new attitude.

  * * *

  “That was really fun,” says Jada after the models do their final walk on the runway. “It must have taken a lot of work to put it all together.”

  “You have no idea,” says a voice behind me.

  I turn around and see Nina standing there. “You should be proud,” I tell her.

  “I am, but those designs…” she trails off and frowns.

  “They were kind of lame, right?” says Mia. “No offense.”

  “None taken,” says Nina. “The parents in charge had a very specific vision of what they wanted. They didn’t really care when I tried to say we wouldn’t wear most of those styles.”

  Alex clears her throat. “Chloe did some really amazing sketches during the show.”

  “Yeah?” says Jada. “Can we see?”

  I shyly open my sketchbook and show them my designs. “They’re just doodles,” I mumble. “The full sketch will look better.”

  “Stop,” says Mia. “These are fantastic. I’d wear any of those.”

  “Same here,” says Jada.

  Nina pushes her way in beside Mia to get a better look. “They are good,” she says grudgingly. “Not exactly my style but nice.”

  Alex snorts and gives me an I-told-you-so look. “What exactly is your style?” she asks.

  “Something a little more feminine and refined,” says Nina. That vision matches with the long-sleeved floral romper she’s wearing.

  “You know,” says Jada, “I have a great idea. What if Chloe and Nina designed our Winter Formal dresses?”

  “That would be awesome!” Mia agrees. “I bet lots of girls would be into that.”

  “Together?” Nina says, shooting me a slightly panicked look. “I don’t —”

  I’m all for designing dresses… but not with Nina. It’s one thing that we’re not mortal enemies anymore. But it’s another to work together, especially when we have such different design styles.

  “Yeah,” I chime in. “I don’t think that would work. Nina said her vision is different from mine and —”

  “Relax, you two,” Jada interrupts. “I bet there are girls whose tastes lean more toward Nina’s and others who’d prefer Chloe’s vision. Besides, it will be a lot of work. No way can one of you handle it all.”

  “I can handle a lot,” Nina mutters.

  I shoot her a look. “Me too,” I say. After all, I’ve designed stuff that went down the runway during Fashion Week. I can definitely handle a few dresses for a Santa Cruz dance.

  “Okay, then,” says Alex. “It’s decided. Let’s start spreading the word.”

  A week later, my room looks like a tornado went through it. My floor is covered with sketches, fabric samples, and containers filled with embellishments. Since Nina and I agreed to design dresses for Winter Formal, I’ve had appointments almost every day. My parents have been really supportive, but when two girls showed up during dinner a few days ago, they drew the line. From now on, I’m not allowed to have more than one appointment per day. On weekends, I can have more as long as they don’t interfere with dinner or family plans.

  I enlisted Alex’s help in making a schedule, and she was thrilled. She loves organization and was so excited to keep track of the materials used and scheduling appointments. She even offered to keep track of any input Mimi — my favorite local boutique owner — provided. Nina and I realized that we didn’t have time to design the dresses and make them, so Mimi graciously offered to help with the sewing.

  “This will look amazing on my college applications!” Alex exclaimed when I asked. “What school wouldn’t want a future business major who’s already doing business stuff in high school?”

  That got me thinking — not only can I make my Winter Formal designs part of my portfolio, this could also be the start of my own label. Don’t get me wrong — I know that’s a big jump. I mean, I’m confident in my designing, but starting my own label is a lot of pressure. But it’s what I want more than anything else. So I’m trying to be positive and not typical Chloe who doubts herself at too many turns.

  “Who’s next on our list?” I ask Alex when she shows up for our Saturday afternoon appointment.

  Alex pulls out her laptop and pulls up a spreadsheet she made. “Sophia Gonzalez. Do you know her?”

  “I’ve seen her around. She’s in the animal rights club, and she played Glinda the Good Witch in The Wizard of Oz last year. I think she has pretty girly, feminine style.”

  Alex makes a face when I say the word girly, as if there’s nothing worse than that.

  I roll my eyes. “Girly can be really pretty. I can work with that.”

  Just then, my mom knocks on my bedroom door. “Your next client is here,” she says very seriously. She can be really silly sometimes, but I do like the sound of that. It’s like I’m running a real business.

  “Hi, Chloe!” Sophia says, walking into my room. She’s wearing floral pants and a lacy, off-the-shoulder blouse. Her hair is swept up with a lace ribbon. “Thanks for squeezing me in. I’m so excited about this! It’s going to be so cool to have a custom dress! I even brought some designs.”

  “Very cool,” I say, taking the papers from her hand. “It’s really helpful if I have a clear idea of what you want.”

  “I actually showed these to Nina first,” Sophia says, “but she said you might be a better fit.”

  “I’ll bet she did,” Alex mutters under her breath.

  I shoot Alex a look that says zip it and then turn back to Sophia. “I’m sure I can come up with something based on these. Why don’t you have a seat while I look through them, okay?”

  The fact that Nina sent Sophia here gives me a bad feeling, but I try to shrug it off and look at the papers — photos from magazines pasted together with some of Sophia’s ideas drawn in — with an open mind. I do this kind of thing when brainstorming too, but as I flip through Sophia’s ideas, I realize there’s a major difference. The designs I pick go together. These don’t — at all.

  One page shows a Cinderella-type ball gown bottom paired with a sequined top, and Sophia had added poufy sleeves similar to what we saw at the fashion show last week. Another combination is a skirt with layers of tulle and an off-the-shoulder velvet top. I see more and more mismatched combinations as I flip through the stack. I like an element of each design, but the way Sophia seems to envision them together is a little bizarre.

  I feel Sophia’s eyes on me and force myself to smile. There
’s more to being a fashion designer than just drawing. I have to learn to sell my ideas to clients too, or there’s no way I’ll make it as a designer. I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

  “You have a lot of great ideas,” I start, hoping I’m being tactful. I rack my brain, trying to figure out how to phrase the next part so it doesn’t hurt her feelings. I know how crushing it can be to present an idea you think is terrific, only to be told it won’t work at all — I had plenty of experience with that during Design Diva and my internship. I tap my pencil on my lip. “A lot of great ideas,” I repeat to give myself more time to think.

  I remember how helpful it was when the Design Diva judges or my internship supervisors told me how to fix my designs but also emphasized what was good about them. The positive stuff gave me confidence and made me feel less hopeless about the things I had to fix.

  Alex snorts beside me, and I give her a stern look. She pretends to study her spreadsheet.

  Sophia looks at me expectantly. “So, the thing is,” I begin, “I’m not sure how some of these designs fit together.” Sophia’s face falls, and I rush to say something promising. “But, I think it’s just a matter of moving some things around. There’s definitely stuff here I can use.”

  Sophia perks up. “Great! I mean, it doesn’t have to look exactly like it does in my pictures. I’m open to input. Kind of.”

  I look at the designs again. “Maybe the best place to start is by you telling me which styles are your absolute favorites. Then, we’ll go from there.”

  I hand Sophia her designs, and Alex gives me a thumbs-up as Sophia scans her drawings.

  About ten minutes later, Sophia has circled a few styles on each page. “I really like a fairy-tale princess type of look,” says Sophia, blushing. “Something you’d see in Disney movies. Is that too silly?”

  This sparks something for me. I have the perfect Disney princess in mind, and it’s a perfect fit for Winter Formal. “Not silly at all! Actually, you gave me an idea. One sec.”