my first ever photoshoot.

well, yesterday marks two months in america and i just had my first photoshoot last weekend! technically, its not my first collection; its more of my portfolio. i did use patterns for some of the pieces, and none of them are for sale! im using this to apply for fashion schools in paris, rather than start a business. 


im applying to one school in particular, called IFA. they are my first choice, and yesterday i sent my application in to them. i am unbelievably nervous,  they are the perfect school for me. and i hope so badly they will accept me. i did everything i could think of, i worked so hard on this portfolio and my essay. the decision now rests in their hands.


the making of this portfolio was a wonderful process, one i enjoyed immensely. i had the most trouble with the original drawing of my designs, though i am told that gets easier with practice. my favorite part was actually cutting the fabric and creating the patterns themselves. i had to decide how large to make the pattern pieces, how to construct the garment (there are so many options!) and i spent hours drafting pattern after pattern on newspaper until i eventually graduated to newsprint and had a lot less trouble. 


but although the act of designing and sewing was fun and something i really loved and enjoyed, the most satisfying moment, the moment of true pride, came when i first saw my model in MY clothes. to see a woman wearing my clothes and seeing them actually fit, actually look good, actually look real was an indescribable feeling. regardless what happens with ifa, with my plans to return to paris, i will never forget the moment when i saw my model in my clothes for the first time and realized that i did it. i set out to design clothes, and i did. 


location: the arts district, phoenix az
model: dena nicole brooks
photographer: tressel holloway




ONE: romper

my own original design.  

romper is made from both a lightweight knit material, and a pinstripe crepe material.  

features a bow motif on the front, with matching side pockets. 

halter neckline, with ties.  

elastic casing in the waistband and back.

TWO: gathered shorts

  my own original design. 

  made from a lightweight knit fabric. 

  features a high waist band, with gathers. 

  side pockets on the front and high pocket flaps on the back. 

  one-inch cuffs around the legs.  

  a zipper fly. 

    

THREE: blazer

  modified from an existing pattern.  

  made from a woven houndstooth.  

  added a grey lining, on the inside of the body and the sleeves.  

  added reversible cuffs. 

FOUR: button-up blouse with ruffles

   

modified from an existing pattern.  

made from a cotton blend. 

decreased and rounded the size of the sleeve caps. 

lessened the amount of ruffles.

FIVE: pleated shorts

  my own original design. 

  made from a cotton material.  

  high-waisted shorts with a pleated waistline.  

  side pockets. 

  a button-up fly.

SIX: manu cardigan

 followed the manu pattern almost exactly.  

 knit from an aran wool blend.  

 knit from the bottom up, short-row yoke construction.  

 features gathers on the shoulders, sleeve bands, and pockets.  

 boasts garter-stitch detailing.

SEVEN: horizontal-ribbed cardigan

 my own original design: pattern written by me. sort of blogged about here, but not really.  

 knit from a dk weight merino wool.  

 horizontal ribbing edging; alternate rows of stockinette and reverse stockinette. 

 knit from the top down, raglan yoke construction.

now, i did not sew the two tshirts! those are store-bought!! the light grey is from h&m, and the dark grey shirt came from a flea market in thailand. 

i decided on the name of my eventual line, and i doubt any of you will be surprised. yes, it is "yellow bird". because i have found it! i found my yellow bird, the thing ive been searching for, the thing that defines me and fills my thoughts and drives my day. it's designing clothes, it's making clothes, it's fashion. my blogroll is full of fashion blogs, and my desk is overflowing with international fashion magazines (l'officiel and russh are my favorites) and my facebook newsfeed is overrun with fashion posts from my many recent likes. 

as i start out, id like to be an independent high fashion designer, who makes good custom clothes at more affordable prices. but i plan to eventually get into limited edition pret-a-porter, and have multiple lines. i want of course a mens line and a womens line. but id also like two more lines for mixed genders: a line that fits more than just one body type and isnt screen print tees. and the one im most excited about, an eco-sustainable line. apparently, i plan to be very big.  i dont want to be famous, though. i have no desire for fame. i simply want to make clothes for people.

ive bought my website, just to preserve the domain name! its yellowbirdcollections.com, and once i can figure out this PHP or PTP or whatever its called, ill put the photos up! (any help in this area would be greatly appreciated, im not as tech savvy as id like.)

but my more immediate plans? im hoping to get accepted to this school and move back to paris this summer. while in school, romain thinks i should create an underground independent fashion line for the parisian youth (he means the twenty-something year olds who go clubbing every night). i agree wholeheartedly, except id like to open up a small online shop with some menswear as well. then once ive graduated and after ive interned for a while in one of the big fashion houses, ill have enough of a base to open a real store. and as long as im dreaming, itll be in the marais...

but it doesnt do any harm to dream, right??

the beginning of a brand new adventure.

as i mentioned in my last post, i lived in ireland for two months. my lease in paris ran out, right when my french student visa expired. i needed a place to live, and to plan, because i wasnt quite ready to return to the states just yet. my friend aoife was up for the challenge. she had recently moved into a three-story house fifteen minutes outside of dublin. she asked her new flatmates, and they agreed i could stay as i long as i pitched in for garbage collection and propane for the stove. i instantly agreed. so i brought my tiny backpack, packed with warm weather paris clothes and showed up on aoifes dooorstep. it was then that she told me the tiny little hiccups: one, ireland was COLD. two, we didnt have a room yet, we were living in the laundry room. the laundry room had one queen bed, an armoir, a washer plus dryer, and literally nothing else, if you dont count the mold and snails that came in from the broken window above the bed. i couldnt complain, i was living there for almost free. but it was a little depressing after the charm of being called 'daz', a form of laundry detergent, wore off.

but the house, and the people in it, were amazing. the rooms (yes, even the laundry room) were large and run down, exactly how i like them. it reminded me of the place i lived while in brooklyn; an artists squat. grafitti drawings, and mural paintings covered the walls. it was a completely inspiring place to be.

it was there that i met lynn macpherson, of salty philip. during my brief time in ireland, i worked under her. i learned a lot working under her and was inspired to finally pursue a career path that i had recently begun mulling about in my head. lynn was a scottish designer, living in ireland, fresh from berlin where she had owned her own shop. lynn made eco-sustainable designs only, something i would eventually like to incorporate. on top of that, lynn was only twenty-four. she had owned two shops, and had a studio i was in awe of. these are some pictures from her photoshoot from her most recent collection. the professional ones can be found on her website, linked above. lynn is the one with an umbrella.

ireland is full of artists doing what they love. granted most of them are on the dole, an irish form of welfare, it is nonetheless inspiring. being around lynn and seeing her working, not only showed me it was possible but got me excited to start my own career in fashion.

being with this girl helped too. in case you dont recognize her, thats kulka from ravelry, her blog here. after blogging back and forth for years, i finally met her last year my first time to ireland. then when i returned, there was no question we would become great friends. she would like to start designing her own knitting patterns and we talked drunkenly for ages of opening an etsy shop. she recently started art school at 25, and is giving me the courage to pursue fashion design school at such a late age.

so that was ireland, two months full of inspiration. that coupled with the inspiration given by spending the last several months with an amateur fashion photographer in paris, has given me the drive needed to pursue fashion school.

i used to think that speaking about something made it less likely to happen, a form of jinxing if you will. but over the past year ive learned that not speaking about things doesnt make your dreams happen or problems go away. in fact, not speaking does just the opposite: that simple act of ommission can make everything worse. it is through facing your problems, asking for help or advice, or even just talking until your head is clear, that accomplishes anything and everything. donc, i am appealing to you, blogging world, to offer me advice, even more inspiration, or to simply be a sounding board for me bounce ideas off of. 

in less than a week, i am moving back to arizona. i need/i want/i have to finish my last semester of university. however, rather than returning to flagstaff, i will be (eep, those dreaded words ever college student dreads to say) living at home and attending the nau phoenix campus.

i have my reasons, more than i would have thought. the least selfish is i really need to be closer to my parents, my sister, and my nephew. i have spent the last eighteen months away from them, and am planning on spending the next three years away as well, while pursuing my next degree.

the more selfish one is that i will save money. i need to save up thousands of dollars before i can move back to europe. granted, my income will be more in europe, but i will have tuition, rent, AND student loans from nau to pay off. living at home while in america allows me to work, and actually save money.

now for my favorite reason, the one i am most looking forward to. my mother is a seamstress who used to have dreams of designing herself before she became a hippie fighting against the vietnam war. and she has agreed to devote the next six months to teaching me everything she knows about sewing, and helping me create my portfolio/application. 

the average fashion school in paris requires a sort of portfolio. they dont look at transcripts of high school or other colleges, they simply look at your work, your innate talent. this works in my favor, as my grades arent exactly shining. (the first time i even encountered the grading system, i was fourteen. after leaving the montessori school i had attended since four years old, i arrived at a public high school and received my first failed math quiz. i havent ever quite adjusted.)

anyways, the portfolio. the portfolio changes from institute to institute, but the most common version is simple. five drawings of original garments, and five photos of those finished garments.

something so simple decides my future. so you bet i am going to work as hard as possible to overcome my slight 'handicaps' and say loud and clear 'i deserve this!' most people who attend fashion school are fresh out of high school and been already making clothes for years. i am certainly not fresh out of high school (going on five years now!), and, if my knitting is not counted, my experience with making clothes through sewing, though existing, is novice at best. (the next few months will fix that!)

  

now, for those of you that are starting to worry, dont. this is NOT becoming a fashion blog. you will not see me posting daily updates of my outift, or anything like that. although, that works for some people and i find it interesting to read, thats not what im interested in doing. i have no desire to be a model, i want to be the one that dresses the model, that designs the clothes, the one in control. speaking of which, i will eventually need a model for my portfolio, if any of you are in phoenix!

so, if any of you have any tips and advice or even funny stories, please let me know! i am going to be upset, disappointed, overworked, and frustrated the next several months. i just know that this is going to be very difficult, returning to america from a year in paris. returning to school after six months break. and knowing now that my future rests solely upon my shoulders.

but honestly, even more than all of that, this is going to be so much fun. i am starting a new adventure, just as this one closes. and i am more than happy to still have you to share it with.

all photo credits: aoife mcgarry

plants and formspring.

my garden has been growing quite well! unfortunately, two of the plants didnt sprout and the two romain bought i havent been able to save. but two remain, and they are flourishing! they are climbing up the balcony gate and curling around each other. my landlords have agreed to keep them there after we move out. i cant bring myself to move them.

today, as always, romain had to work. i settled in to waste the afternoon away watching french movies, until it was time to meet aoife for our date to rent boats and bcome pirates. just after i had started the movie, and became engrossed in the french zombies [yes, i love horror movies.], romain popped up in my living room with a bouquet of flowers! he'd had a sushi plate to deliver nearby at montparnasse, so he decided to come over for a few minutes! it was unbelievably sweet. usually he brings me potted plants, so it was nice to get a bouquet. [this wasnt the first one, its actually the third. but it is the prettiest, now that its summer!]

now that school has ended, and i havent been able to find that extra job, i have a lot of free time on my hands. so i'll answer the formspring questions that have been piling up!

i love your blog! What's your all time favourite yarn?

i love malabrigo lace or worsted, but i think that debbie bliss cashmerino chunky is my favorite. based on pilling over long time wear, amount of breakage, and color consistency between skeins, cashmerino chunky wins hands down. usually, i dont care for debbie bliss yarns. but this line had none of the usual faults. i didnt find one knot in any single skein!

ive followed your blog for a while now (and a big fan on ravelry!:), and you've definitely got me itching to travel/study abroad! What has been your favorite place in Europe?

well, i havent been many places, im sorry to say. if all of my plans work out, thats going to change! keep looking to my blog for details. but out of the few places i have been, id have to say the southern coast of france. the water is amazing, the wine country is beautiful, and the accent is so endearing!

i love your knitting jacket. Can i have the patron please. I come from the netherlands, and i love your jacket. Afcourse i pay for it Gr Helga

do you mean the truffle? well, i would LOVE to give you the pattern, but unfortunately i used a tutorial. however, i would have no problem answering any questions you may have! or even helping you get started with measurements and gauge.

just message me on ravelry [knitrawr] or leave a comment on my blog [yellowbirdknits.blogspot.com]

here is the tutorial:

http://dullegriet.wordpress.com/tag/truffle-cardigan/

what are you studying in university?

i am studying history, with a minor in art history and french. but i think that's going to change soon! in order to graduate, i need at least another year. so i might make art history my major and history my minor! i'm really not sure yet though, i've got a couple of years left!

What is currently in your purse? Post a photo if you can!

well, there is a story even behind m purse. one day, i was riding the metro to meet romain and arnold in the marais. all of the sudden, the strap on my purse snapped. all my belongings spilled out over the metro floor, sliding and clattering with every jarring movement of the train car. it took me multiple stops to finally collect everything, and after those embarrassing minutes, i ended up being thirty minutes late! on top of that, i was forced to drag them all around, going from store to store, trying buy a new purse. i finally found one from a stand on the side of the road. its extremely large, black, and a little bit manly. but it only cost me twenty euro and i love it. a warning: i never clean out my purse.

 

the contents [i couldnt fit everything in the picture]:

harry potter et l'ecole des sorciers [book one in french]
my journal
my plan de paris [my map of paris]
my knitting
my ginormous wallet which is jammed full of metro passes, tube passes, school ids from three countries, my passport, receipts from all over the world, and a melange of international currency.
ticket stubs from numerous trips
a bottle of water
a lollipop bought on a drunken trip to the alimentation generale
my half of the wishbone that ro and i once wished on
the remnants of a russian wooden ring ro once bought me
a thank you card that is yet to be filled out, for ro's mother
a pack of cigarettes [bad influence here. very bad influence.]
a pack of french playing cards [that are very helpful when my work gets awkward]
brochures from my trip to monet's house and garden
my skeleton keys [my apartment uses skeleton keys!!]
numerous pens, pencils, buttons, and knitting accessories
a cardigan
various hair accessories and makeup
a stick of gum a bartender once gave me [along with a free shot of beer]
my nintendo ds
my ipod
my unlocked phone and multiple sim cards
a pack of tissues and some cough medicine
a pair of oversized sunglasses and a pair of purple fashion glasses
finally, my camera.

wow, its hard to believe i carry all that around with me every day. no wonder my shoulders are always sore.

but this brings me to my next portion! a few days ago, i received a package in the mail! i love receiving mail so i opened it excitedly to find knitting patterns from the lovely siga! i couldnt find them here in france, so she was lovely enough to send them to me! she even sent me an extra magazine! watch out blogosphere, i will soon be making this. [ravelry link.]

also, its not looking like im going to be traveling much around europe. its a shame i know, but hopefully, this next idea will pan out and my frugality wont be wasted. if i missed seeing you, i'm really sorry. but ill be here in paris for at least another two months. come visit me!

le sud: le premier jour

well, i came back from the south today. it was an amazing trip, and to be completely honest, i'm a little sad to be back in paris. the south of france was beautiful, better than anywhere else i have been so far. the architecture was bright and colorful, but quaint and old. the weather was gorgeous, the clouds were bright and fluffy and stood still in the sky, and the blue was almost electric neon, shining down in shades i had never seen before. the sun was bright but there was a slight wind to lessen the burn. i am so tan, i finally feel mixed again. it took six days in the south to undo what seven months in london/paris had done to my skin color!

meeting ro's family was both like and unlike everything i had expected. there was nine of us, four couples and a baby girl of six months. a couple of days before we were supposed to leave, i looked up french etiquette online. i was told, by multiple sites, to always always always bring a gift. so i walked myself to monoprix, and bought a potted plant. bright orange gerber daisies, with lots of leaves. but that didnt seem like me, nor did it seem like enough. anyone can bring a plant, especially an unmarked one that was only five euro. so i hunted through my newly-acquired phildar stash and stumbled upon two skeins of dk purple wool blend that just wanted to be made into a baby dress. so i started it, realizing i had less than 48 hours to both knit the dress and prepare myself. i knit until six in the morning, and in my fatigue, forgot to shut the window on the freezing storm that was pouring down on the paris streets. i would feel the effects of that later.

the day before our departure, ro's aunt decided that she wanted to meet me as well. she had been trying for months, after realizing i was illicitly staying in her shared home with romain, when she and her husband went out of town. [i threw away a tampon. she's going through menopause. not a hard puzzle to figure out.] i had managed to avoid meeting her, stating the obvious fears of speaking english, social faux pas, etc. however, that excuse becomes a little ridiculous once youve agreed to stay with a boys parents for a week. meeting the aunt seems a little less daunting...

so, after ro's work, i met him there with my valise in hand. she was incredibly nice, and only laughed about ro breaking the rules and letting me stay there. she didnt seem mad one bit, whereas i had expected her to at least chastise. she spoke frenglish, just as i do. she offered food and left us alone, heading to bed. it gave me more hope for the next day.

due to the aforementioned open window, i spent the night in a cold sweat, unable to sleep but unable to wake up. i kept sneezing, coughing, and shaking romain to bring me water and mouchoirs or tissues. i barely slept an hour.

the day broke bright and early, and i felt like my head was going to explode. but i ripped myself out of my bed, wanting so badly to dress myself properly for the first meeting. we arrived at the train station right on time, and i passed the four hours knitting furiously. i was still unable to finish, upon arrival, only the ties on the dress were left. we sat for twenty or so minutes, until his mom arrived. a short, small woman dressed in jeans with bright grey roots and auburn hair stepped out of a dented dark turquoise car. this was not what i expected. where was the majesty that being rich and french affords? where was the haughty attitude, the condescending smile, and the judging looks? it was then that i realized i was not in paris anymore. i was in the south. i had heard things were different, people were different, but i had not realized. she bounce-stepped before me awkwardly, shyly, and i could tell she was searching her words, trying to speak english. i knew the moment she gave up on that, because out came a bubbling stream of french syllables that i could never have hoped to understood. bright turquoise eyes, a mirror of romains, stared welcomingly at me, waiting for an answer. i only smiled, said i didnt understand as we both looked at romain for translation. that would be how it was for the rest of the trip, for mme clerc did not speak a word of english. what she did speak was made-up in her head, [she liked to add "-ly" to words] and i had to work harder to decipher her english than her french. but she was a beautiful, happy woman who was frustrated by our language barrier and unbelievably excited to have her sons at home.

his dad arrived moments later, in a separate car. the family has eight people, traveling anywhere is an adventure to say the least. the car matched more what i expected, european, shiny silver paint and dark leather interior that smells like rental car. the man was also more what i expected, polos and khakis, pressed to fit. until he spoke english in a quiet friendly rumble, his face split by a smile and creased by laughlines. his ears, his jaw, his nose, all reminded me so much of romain. it was amusing to see romain standing in between them, and be able to match each feature of his with theirs. because my parents are different races, its much harder to assign specific features to each. this was a novelty i am not used to.

we waited a couple hours for his brothers to arrive, making chitchat in the car, in the rain, and in the station. chitchat when you dont know each other is hard enough, chitchat between the significant other of a child and its parents is even harder, but chitchat when you dont speak the same language is impossible. the combination of all three was overwhelming for my already sick body, and i fell asleep, my head on romains lap in the back of the car.

then, suddenly, his brothers were there. it was like a storm hit.  i was met by delighted cries, kisses, and baby coos. expecting to be forgotten in the jumble of reunion, i took a step back and prepared to wait. it took only seconds before i was swept up in a cloud of bisous, immediately greeted. i answered every question, but clung to romain. one thing not made evident by this blog is i dont like to speak. i'm not a talker, i was raised by the silent types and prefer to be that way myself. not a single thing about this family was quiet, the chatter was nonstop and switched languages so fast i could barely keep up. however, in those six days, i learned more french than i have during my whole stay in paris.

we drove the forty minutes to his house, and i was treated to views of blossoming early vineyards and mountains painted by all the best impressionists.

his house was large, two sprawling stories, and bright yellow. it was situated at an angle, running diagonal to the street, and set back a few hundred meters. a pool and a garden that would be better called a forest surrounded it, a terrace covered in bright yellow flowers was on one side. bright aqua shutters bordered each window and each door, much like every other house in the south. i had never seen a cuter, more quietly stylish, house.

by the time we got to his house, i could barely stand i felt so sick. unsure of whether i was ill or simply always looked this way, romain's mother tentatively asked me i needed some medicine. i responded quickly that yes i sure did, and she pumped me full of three different pills, handed me a robe and some slippers, and turned to play with the baby.

it was only two at this time, and lunch was promptly served. we all gathered around a very large table and began to speak. romains mother brought out a couscous and a cucumber dish that i was very pleasantly surprised to discover i liked. i ate my fill, rejoicing that the food was so light and perfect for me. i had feared that my stomach would not be able to handle the french eating habits, and was so happy to find that fear unfounded.

that was, of course, until she brought another dish. i had forgotten that french meals all have three courses. it was an amazing meal, but i could barely eat more than a few bites. romain explained my stomach to his family, and i was met with sympathetic glances. being able to only eat one course seemed interminable to them.

after lunch, we all gathered around, sat and talked until dinner. we ate a meal of fresh french and spanish charcuterie. possibly the worst thing i could have eaten for my stomach, but the best tasting thing i have had in a while. i discovered on this trip that i could subsist solely on baguettes, saucisson, and goat cheese without a problem. dinner was fewer courses than lunch, but not by much. dessert was an almond butter fudge, brought back from spain, i forgot the name, if anybody knows it, please tell me!

 we stayed up talking until midnight, and romain would not allow me to go to bed before any else, declaring it insufferably rude. so i nodded off in my chair a couple of times, head clouded with cough medicines and fever. my fever broke during the night, and i woke up the next morning refreshed and with only a slight sniffle that would persist the rest of my stay.

but it is one in the morning here, i am worn out from a day of travel and this entry has already gotten quite long. i will post more details tomorrow, what we did on the rest of the trip. goodnight! i'll leave you with one last photo!