Being accepted to Central Saint Martins in London was a step in my new direction. At least modeling had allowed
me to save enough money to enroll in school and live comfortably for the two years I would be in London, but I had to be
diligent. I did not mind selling some Chanel freebies I had received at shows to
pay for a new pair of scissors or a sewing machine. The moment I stepped
into the dimly lit hallway of Central Saint Martins and saw a student in a
green Mohawk and a jumpsuit spattered in paint, I knew I was in the right place.
In my Digital Patterns class I
had a group project which allowed me to meet one of my best friends, Ryan. Ryan
was an already well known street style blogger gone to fashion school. He was
originally from New York city and had decided to go international rather than
study at Parsons. Ryan’s signature look was all white skinny jeans, white
button down shirt, white shoes and a big Louis Vuitton purse he carried
everywhere in the crook of his arm. His usually accessories were his oversize
tortoise shell sunglasses (he wanted to be the male Jackie O) and big rings
either gold or silver depending on his mood, but he almost always stuck to his
all white wardrobe.
He could spot a designer bag on
a woman a mile away and tell you the price of the bag in several countries at
that moment. He had a keen eye for cost and calculating numbers in his head of
how much cloth per square foot would translate into the price of a dress. Both
his parents were accountants who would constantly
discuss numbers and price of everything in an increasingly expensive New York, which eventually led to their divorce.
Ryan and I became inseparable
in school. Our classmates would call us The American Pair, but as far as I knew
we were very different Americans. I was West coast and he was East coast but we
met in between with Ryan’s witty sense of humor and calculating brain and me
with my laid back sense and big designing vision.
