Metamorphose, and why I'm not entirely proud of it.

Over the last several months, I was working on a Project Runway-style challenge with nine other local designers that was organized by St. Vincent de Paul of Lane County and Eugene Fashion Week. It started with a shopping day at the Division Avenue store, and ended with a runway show this past Sunday at the Jordan Schnitzer Museum of Art. There were three categories--ready to wear, evening wear, and designer's choice. Eighty percent of each of our designs had to be with materials we purchased with our $40 budget. One winner would be chosen in each category.

I was already at a disadvantage, being one of the more inexperienced designers. Then I lost three weeks recovering from surgery.Then I kept hitting snags. I got to a point where I just wanted to get things finished. So, I put out mediocre work. And I'm not proud of it. So much so that I've already dismantled two of the looks to be integrated elsewhere, and will be re-working the third.

Obviously, I didn't win. I didn't expect to. And I am super happy for the ladies who did win. What's bothering me is that, while of course the winners deserve every bit of attention they're getting, very little has been mentioned of the rest of us. I don't know how the others feel about this. Maybe I'm just annoyed because I'm failing one of my classes as a direct result of this challenge, and have pretty much taken a major hit to my confidence. But what little coverage I've seen of the show itself has been disappointing. Perhaps because this is the only picture I've seen of me (other than Eugene Weekly's Instagram):

That thick mane of brown hair in the blue dress is me.

I thought I was relatively pleased with Metamorphose, but subconsciously, my brain hates me. I ate half a cherry pie for lunch on Thursday. I'm going to go ahead and assume that the depression that I've made good strides with is worming its way out of hiding.

Stallings, pity party of one.

My disappointment in myself was enough to make me seriously consider not participating in this year's Summer in the City show. Maybe even Eugene Fashion Week in the fall. Don't worry, that was short-lived. I'm already in the planning stages for SITC. 

Actually, you know, typing this out has made me feel slightly better. Thank you, Blogger, for being a virtual ear to annoy. But I'm still not proud of the work I put out last weekend. I promise to do better next time.

How about a styling tip?

As part of my styling class, I had to style an editorial shoot to be done in San Francisco. Sadly, for many reasons, I didn't go to California, but I did ship my look there.

In order to prevent scuffing shoes and sets, stylists will often put tape on the bottoms of the shoes, especially if they're meant to be returned. Like the ones I sent in. I got them back today, peeled off the tape, and had a mild stroke at all of the tape residue left behind. I was worried that I couldn't return them, so I scoured the interwebs for tips. Nail polish remover didn't work, unless they meant the stuff with acetone in it, which usually doesn't play nice with porous materials. A cleaning wipe didn't work. I wasn't about to pour olive oil on them, but that did give me an idea: coconut oil!

Coconut oil exists as a solid until warmed up. Since I was concerned about the mess that olive oil would make, coconut oil seemed like the right solution. So I grabbed my jar of coconut oil, a butter knife, and a rag. I spread the oil onto the soles of the shoes, left it set for a few minutes, then worked it off with the rag. I then wiped off the excess oil residue with a cleaning wipe, and presto! No more tape residue. And I was able to return the shoes no problem.

One shoe with coconut oil, the other without.

Both shoes residue-free!

Now, ordinarily, the shoes won't be taped for two weeks in boxes, trucks, and two different states like they were for this project. But this is still a useful tip nonetheless, because several factors may require it. Coconut oil will now be a staple in my styling kit. It was worth it, though. I'd better get a good grade on this!

The shoes are the only part of the look that wasn't made by me or my husband.