In the entry area, there’s a group already waiting. A tall girl wearing an oversized black sweater layered over a gray T-shirt, black leggings, and silver flats greets us.
“Hi, everyone!” she says. “I’m Whitney, and I’ll be your guide today.”
“That looks like something you’d wear,” Mom whispers.
“That’s a good sign,” I whisper back.
“There are so many great things about FIT,” Whitney continues, “but one of my favorites is the location. We’re so close to the Garment District, which means you’ll really get a feel for the city and fashion industry here. At FIT, we say, ‘NYC is your campus.’”
I can’t help but smile at that. There are so many amazing resources here.
Whitney looks at a piece of paper in her hand. “I see you’re all interested in the School of Art and Design, so let’s start there.” She leads us to a large, brown building. Unlike FIDM, the walls here are not brightly colored. Instead, they’re plain and wooden. It’s a bit of a letdown.
I follow Whitney into a classroom and notice framed pictures of student designs on the walls. That’s a really nice touch. Who wouldn’t be motivated by seeing other students’ designs on display? It makes me think of Nina and how useful reviewing our designs together has been.
All around the room, students have their own mannequins and are concentrating on measuring fabric. The professor is explaining something about precise stitching. The tips he gives are impressive, and he describes them in great detail.
“They’re pretty no-nonsense here when it comes to learning,” says Whitney. “I considered myself a good designer when I entered this program, but I realized I still had so much to learn. If you want to get better with your technique, this is the school for you.”
I think about what I’ve accomplished so far and the dresses I’ve designed for the upcoming Winter Formal. Then I imagine myself in these seats, ready to be made better.
“You’ll also learn about professional patternmaking, sewing techniques, and draping, as well as how to make designs on the computer,” Whitney continues.
When I was doing my internship at Stefan Meyers, I did all my designs by hand, but I noticed several designers who did them only on computer. I don’t know how to do computer design, but I should.
“Let me take you to my favorite spot — the Museum at FIT,” Whitney says, leading us out of the classroom. “They have fabulous exhibitions and programs. I love going there for inspiration.”
When we arrive at the museum, I can see why. The current exhibition is of 1930s fashion. There’s a gown in ivory tulle and gold threading that cascades to the floor. I love its glamour. My mom points out an orange swimsuit with black and gold geometric patterns.
“It’s wool!” says Mom. “Odd choice for a bathing suit.”
“It wouldn’t be my first choice, either,” I say with a laugh.
We walk around the museum, and I pay extra attention to the dresses. I compare them to my designs and think about what I might do differently. I imagine myself coming here to unwind, sketchpad in hand. I take it out now and do a quick sketch of a favorite piece. It’s a gown in ivory silk organza with black lace insets. There’s a teardrop opening in the back. I put a little star by it to remind myself to incorporate it into my designs.
Whitney talks more about campus life and what the school can offer. “There are pros and cons to all fashion schools,” she tells us. “Not only is FIT affordable — about a third of what Parsons costs — but you’ll leave college prepared for a career in fashion.”
I see parents and students perk up at the mention of the tuition cost. My mom stands straighter too. I know she said we could handle a more expensive school if I got a job, but a good education at a fraction of the cost is definitely something to consider.
“We also have an annual student runway show that top designers critique,” says Whitney. “And you’ll have the opportunity to intern with excellent designers. You can even study in Milan for a semester.”
“Milan!” I whisper to my mom, and she smiles.
“In the end,” says Whitney, “you have to try and imagine where you see yourself and decide which school is the best fit for you.”
That’s the plan, I think to myself. One school left.
“Wow!” I say as our Parsons tour guide, Sammi, leads us into the hallway of the fashion campus later that afternoon. The day has been jam-packed — Mom and I hurried here straight from FIT — but I still have time to be impressed. The walls here are lined with framed illustrations of vintage clothing, all of which are beautiful.
I stare at a display labeled Wedding Dresses — although the designs look more like spring or summer party dresses. They’re all done in white and have cinched waists, but their details set them apart. One has a ruffled lace skirt. Another has a black ribbon decorating the bodice. A third dress has a blue sash.
It’s amazing how the smallest details can completely change the look of a piece. I think of my portfolio too. From the swimsuits to my Winter Formal dresses, I’ve played with embellishments and details to create something unique each time. Until this moment, though, I sort of thought of my portfolio as something I was working on for the end goal — to get into college. These designs make me realize it’s so much more. My portfolio is proof of how much I’ve learned and how far I’ve come as a designer.
Sammi leads us into a classroom. For once, there isn’t a class going on. This allows me to really inspect the room without worrying that I’ll be in someone’s way.
“Our classrooms are a little sparse,” Sammi says, “but having fewer distractions always helps me focus. And the windows are one of my favorite parts.”
She points to the wide, tall windows that overlook 7th Avenue, and I imagine sitting and sketching by one of those or just staring out as I put the finishing touches on a design.
“The mirrors and sewing machines are another highlight.” Sammi waves her arm, motioning around the space. The walls are lined with fitting mirrors — a great touch for when you’re trying to see exactly how a garment looks. There are also sewing machines across the wall.
I think back to my time on Teen Design Diva — getting a sewing machine was a scramble, and before that we had to hand-sew our garments. I would have killed for a room like this.
As the group heads out of the classroom, a girl in a black blazer, studded T-shirt, torn jeans, and wedge sneakers speaks up. “So are all the classes in this building?”
Sammi laughs. “I wish! They’re spread out across eight streets. That’s something you’re going to have to budget for. Always leave extra time.”
“At FIT, all the classes are on one street,” I say to my mom.
“Pros and cons list, right?” says my mom.
“That’s a good idea,” I agree. “As of now, they’re not all that different.”
“Do you have a museum?” the girl in the blazer asks.
“We don’t,” says Sammi. “But we do have our annual Fashion Benefit and Parsons Festival. The benefit highlights the work of graduating students and raises money for scholarships. Top designers who’ve graduated from Parsons attend it. It’s really exciting!”
I remember FIT and FIDM discussing something similar. I love that each has its own opportunity to showcase designs.
“The festival has all kinds of events and exhibitions,” Sammi explains. “And it showcases student work from all of Parsons’s programs.”
“Do you have an exhibition now?” another girl on the tour asks. She’s wearing a leopard-print blazer over jeans and the ends of her hair are dyed purple.
“We do! Thanks for the reminder. Follow me.” Sammi leads us into a room with student designs. The current theme appears to be feathers. The showcased dresses all use them in some way. A red dress stands out the most. The bodice is red satin and resembles a corset, and the skirt is
asymmetrical and comprised of feathers.
The girl in the leopard-print blazer raises her hand again. “This is all very cool, and Parsons seems like a great school, but I’ve toured a few fashion schools already. Can’t you just tell me why Parsons is the best choice?”
Sammi forces a smile. “Well, we have a great faculty. Our students leave very prepared and have real designers as mentors. Our exhibitions are great opportunities —”
“Everyone says that,” the girl interrupts, rolling her eyes.
Sammi looks flustered for a moment but then says, “I love it here. My classmates are all really talented, and I love how my teachers encourage creativity. But I can’t tell you what school to pick. It comes down to what’s right for you.”
What is right for me? That seems to be the million-dollar question. Too bad I don’t have an answer.
“Chloe!” Bailey, my former suitemate, exclaims. She grins as she holds open the door to her dorm later that evening. “You’re looking as stylish as ever!”
“You too!” I say. My one-time roommate looks adorable in a white cropped sweater and matching skirt paired with floral-print shoes.
Bailey pulls me into the room and tosses her phone to a redhead in the room. “Ellen, can you take a picture of us?” Without waiting for a response, she puts her hand on her hip and strikes a pose.
I laugh and pose alongside her. “So what’s on the agenda for tonight?” I ask once Ellen has snapped our picture.
Ellen hands Bailey’s phone back and bounces on her toes. “There’s a great dance club and restaurant that just opened nearby. We’ve been dying to check it out because we it have on good authority —”
Bailey laughs. “I’d hardly call a gossip magazine good authority.”
“As I was saying,” Ellen continues, face serious, “we have it on good authority that there have been several celebrity sightings there.”
“Did someone say celebrity?” asks a girl standing just outside Bailey’s open door. Her style — a red sweater over a black shirt with pearl buttons, black leggings, and lace-up brown boots — is very similar to my own. The white scarf wrapped around her neck brightens the ensemble.
“Hey, Andrea. Come on in! Meet Chloe.”
“Oh my gosh,” Andrea says, her eyes growing wide. “Chloe Montgomery? I loved you on Teen Design Diva!”
My face reddens. “Thanks. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Bailey, why didn’t you tell me she’d be here today?” Andrea demands.
Bailey and Ellen exchange eye rolls. “Uh, this is why, Miss Fangirl,” Bailey says.
Over the next few minutes, more people pop into Bailey and Ellen’s room to offer quick hellos. It’s so busy. Living here in the summer wasn’t the same. We weren’t in our room very much. And when we were, our door was closed.
“Is it always like this?” I ask.
Ellen, Andrea, and Bailey look confused. “What do you mean?” Bailey asks.
“Like people popping in, your door open, everyone being so friendly,” I say.
“Oh!” says Bailey. “I’m so used to it, I don’t even notice anymore. But, yeah, that’s the best part about living in a dorm. You’re never alone — unless you want to be.”
“Is it weird for you?” asks Ellen. “We can close the door.”
“No!” I say. “It’s actually really cool. Are the dorms at all colleges like this?” I’m sort of hoping they’ll say no — then I can add this to my pro list for FIT.
“Yup!” says Andrea. “I’ve visited friends at Parsons and other colleges outside the city too. It’s the same everywhere.”
“Oh,” I say, my face falling.
Bailey looks confused. “You just said it was cool.”
“It is,” I say, “but I’m trying to decide on a school, and they’re all pretty similar.”
Ellen gives me a knowing look. “I remember going through that. It’s really hard to know which one is right for you. But you’ll figure it out.”
Bailey checks her watch. “Let’s get out of here. Chloe needs some new scenery.”
* * *
The restaurant we go to is called Plush. I’m assuming it gets its name from the soft, burgundy cushions surrounding each dimly lit sitting area. “Fancy,” I say when we get to our table.
“Wow,” says Andrea. “Isn’t that Kylie King, the lead of Silvertown? And, whoa. Is that Harvey Kahn? And, wait…” Andrea goes on to list five other celebs, eyes getting bigger and bigger with each one.
Ellen and Bailey glance around the restaurant as Andrea points everyone out. They’re not as giddy as she is, but I am. I think about how excited Alex would be to be here. We still haven’t talked since our fight. I texted her after we landed, and she hasn’t written back.
“Ladies,” a waiter says, approaching our table. “Here are your appetizers.”
I dig in. “When did we order these?” I ask in between bites.
“You learn things here,” says Bailey, putting an arm around me. “We called them in before we came.”
“Yep,” says Ellen, “stick with us and college will be a breeze.”
I get a warm, happy feeling. Going to college in New York would be great. I’d have a built-in friend network, not to mention Jake and Liesel would be nearby. And living so close to the Fashion District and museums is what I’ve always wanted. But on the other hand, FIDM would be close to Alex’s college and my family. Plus, the beauty of FIDM with its colorful walls, floor, and unique students is still on my brain.
“It’s definitely appealing,” I finally say.
“Hold up,” Ellen says, staring across the room. “No way.”
I follow her gaze. “Oh my god. No way,” I repeat.
“That’s Lola James!” Andrea practically squeals.
“I drew her!” I blurt out. “She’s my portfolio inspiration!” The girls look at me, confused. “The portfolio requirements for FIT — I have to draw pop star designs,” I babble. “Never mind! Just wow.”
For once, I don’t have my sketchpad with me. Even if I did, I doubt I’d have the guts to approach Lola, so I settle for staring. Despite it being October, Lola is dressed in a black velvet top, a gold skirt with an embroidered leaf design, and black heels. I think about the designs I created for her. They’re different, but I think they truly capture her style, too.
“You should tell her she inspired you,” Bailey teases, pretending to push me from our table toward Lola.
“Do it!” Andrea says. “You’re famous, too.” Unlike Bailey, she seems serious.
“Um, I don’t think so. We’re in a different league of famous,” I say.
“Still,” Ellen says, “what can it hurt?”
I shake my head. “Sorry. That’s just not me.”
“It may not be you,” Bailey says, looking back across the room, “but it’s definitely Lola. She’s walking over here.”
We all look toward the empty appetizer plate on our table and try to keep cool.
“Hi,” says Lola. She’s even more beautiful in person. “This is going to sound incredibly dorky, but I’m a huge fan of you and Teen Design Diva. I’m Lola James.”
I laugh nervously. “Um, I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are. I’m Chloe Montgomery.”
Duh, Chloe, I think. Obviously she knows that — she introduced herself to me.
“Chloe drew designs for you,” Andrea suddenly blurts out. I elbow her hard in the side.
Lola’s eyebrows go up. “Really?”
“Well, um, it was for a college admission thing,” I mumble.
Lola smiles. “Cool. I’d love to see them sometime. Maybe I’ll wear something of yours one day.”
“No,” I try to explain, “they’re not actually…” I stop talking. Lola looks like she’s ready to go back to her table. “It was great meeting you.”
>
“Same! I’ll keep my eye out for your stuff,” Lola says, walking away with a wave.
“She’ll keep an eye out!” says Ellen.
“For your stuff!” says Bailey.
“Didn’t I say you were famous?” Andrea shrieks.
I blush. I can’t wait to tell Alex about my encounter. She might not be ready to talk yet, but I text her anyway: OMG! I just ran into Lola James at a restaurant here — she said she’d want to wear my designs!
I spend the rest of the night talking and laughing with Bailey and her friends, but I can’t keep from checking my phone. But as fun as it is, I can’t ignore how hurt I am by Alex’s silence.
On Monday morning, I get a text from Laura asking to postpone our meeting by an hour because things are crazy busy at Stefan Meyers. I smile when I see the message. Things were always insanely busy during my internship — nothing has changed apparently.
“Just remember we have to catch our flight home later this afternoon,” Mom reminds me as I model another outfit in front of her hotel room mirror.
I do a twirl to view the outfit from all angles. Yep, these black leather leggings, black boots, and gray sweater over a collared shirt are definitely the winner. “I remember.”
I’m excited to see Laura today, but I can’t stop thinking about the total silence from Alex. She’s supposed to be my best friend. I get that she might be upset about the possibility of me going to school in New York and maybe she feels left out, but her ignoring me is not okay. When I get home, we’re going to have a heart-to-heart and work this out once and for all.
* * *
When I arrive at Stefan Meyers, Laura is waiting for me in the lobby. “Chloe!” she exclaims, hurrying over and giving me a hug. “It’s so good to see you! Come on upstairs with me, and I’ll show you what we’ve been up to.”
I follow Laura to the elevator. When the doors open on her floor, I see interns and designers hard at work sketching on computers, creating vision boards, and sorting through samples.
Chloe by Design: Measuring Up Page 10