Runway Ready (6 page)

When Mickey returned to Apparel Arts on Monday morning, she was surprised to find Victoria sitting at the front of the studio with Mr. Kaye.

“Why, that's very generous of you,” he was telling the designer as Mickey took her seat.

“What's going on?” Gabriel whispered. “Why is that uppity lady here?”

“Get a clue!” South leaned forward and smacked him on the head. “That uppity lady is Victoria Vanderweil.”

“No way!” Gabriel whistled through his teeth. “Cool.”

Mickey was afraid to guess the reason for Victoria's visit to FAB, but she hoped it wasn't to report to her teacher that she had crashed Cordy's party.

“Class,” Mr. Kaye addressed the room, tapping a ruler on his desk. “Attention, please. I am happy to share some very exciting news with you all.”

Mickey held her breath. It didn't sound like Victoria was ratting her out.

“Ms. Vanderweil wishes to commend FAB and specifically one of our pupils for teaching her granddaughter a lesson in personal expression.”

Mars elbowed Mickey. “It's you, isn't it?”

Mickey shrugged. She hoped so, but Mr. Kaye wasn't looking in her direction.

“We've all been invited to view the Victoria Vanderweil fall-winter collection on the runway during New York Fashion Week,” Mr. Kaye continued. “It's a thrilling, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for all of you…”

He turned to face Mickey. “And we have Mickey to thank for it.”

The class cheered and Mickey felt her cheeks flush.

“My granddaughter has told me she wishes to follow in my footsteps,” Victoria said to Mickey. “Considering last week she wanted to be an astronaut ballerina on the moon, it's a great improvement. She can't stop designing and redesigning all her clothes. She didn't run away all weekend because she was so busy! I'm very grateful, and I owe that to you.”

Mickey smiled. “She always had it in her,” she told Victoria. “I just believed in her.”

“I assume you have someone who believes in you in the same way?” Victoria asked her.

“Lots of someones,” Mickey said. “Mr. Kaye, JC, my mom, my aunt Olive.”

“Then you are very lucky—and very talented,” Victoria added, winking. “Why don't you bring all those someones along to my show. I'll make sure you have seats in the front row.”

• • •

Aunt Olive and Mickey's mom had never been to a real New York Fashion Week show before. The excitement in the air was electric as everyone filed through the doors of the enormous Lincoln Center tent. Inside were rows and rows of seats for invited guests, and the press and their cameras were set up behind them to capture every moment.

“And I thought the runway was big at FAB,” Mickey's mom, Jordana, said. “It's a mile long. Those poor models!”

“They're used to it,” Mickey assured them. “Wait till you see the high heels they have to walk in.”

JC and Mr. Kaye were already in their seats and waved from across the floor.

Mickey led her family to where they were seated and noticed that a group of front-row seats were labeled with her name on them. They read “Reserved for Mickey Williams, Kenzie Wills Designs.”

“I feel like a celeb!” she exclaimed, sitting down next to JC.

“Not so fast,” JC said, pointing to the group of seats next to them. “Check out who's sitting with us.” Mickey looked at the paper taped to the chair that read “Kim Kardashian.”

“I'm going to faint,” Mickey said, fanning herself with the program.

“Not if I beat you to it,” JC insisted. A yelp from inside his bag seconded that.

“You brought Madonna?” Mickey whispered. “To New York Fashion Week?”

“Hey, where I go, she goes,” JC insisted. “Besides, Madonna is a celebrity in her own right. Isn't that so, pup?” The Chihuahua yapped back approvingly.

Mickey scanned the tent as the seats began to fill up. “Have you seen Cordy?” she asked.

“Nope. So far, so good,” JC reported. “Not a food fight, blackout, or fashion catastrophe in sight. I think you really got through to her.”

Mickey noticed Mars, South, Gabriel, and the rest of her Apparel Arts classmates a few rows behind them. She waved.

“Wasn't it supposed to start at four o'clock?” Olive asked Mr. Kaye. “These fashion people aren't very punctual, are they?”

“You know the expression ‘fashionably late'?” he asked her. “Well, that certainly applies to the runway.”

But Mickey didn't mind. She could have sat there all day and night and just absorbed the buzz. Being in this tent gave her such a rush. This was where she belonged, where she always dreamed she would be. Today, she was in the audience. But one day, she would be up there on that runway, sending her models to strut down it wearing her own designs. She knew it. She felt it in every bone in her body.

Her mom read her mind and squeezed her hand. “One day, this will be your show, Mickey Mouse,” she said. “I believe in you.”

Suddenly, the lights dimmed.

“It's about time!” Olive sniffed. She took a container of kale juice out of her bag and offered it to Mr. Kaye.

“Don't mind if I do,” he said.

A hush fell over the room as Victoria walked out onto the stage to welcome her guests. “This collection was inspired by my love for my granddaughter,” she told the audience. “It's called ‘Youthful Exuberance,' and I hope you enjoy it.”

As the music began pumping through the speakers, a cloud of pink fog rolled onto the stage.

“Whoa, this is awesome,” JC said, perching himself on the edge of his seat.

The first model came strutting out, dressed in a pale-pink velvet kimono wrap dress. Her eyeshadow and lipstick were both silver, and she looked like she had fairy dust in her long, wild curls.

“Very ethereal,” Mr. Kaye whispered to Olive. “Don't you agree?”

“It reminds me of one of the fairies in Shakespeare's
A Midsummer Night's Dream
,” Olive whispered.

Mr. Kaye nodded, impressed. “A very keen observation!”

Next up was a pantsuit look: white trousers with a white tuxedo jacket. The model was wearing pigtails tied with long, white chiffon ribbons flowing down her back.

“Exquisite,” Mr. Kaye gushed.

“Won't it get dirty easily?” Olive asked.

“Head-to-toe white is a huge trend right now—but you have a valid point.”

One by one, the looks came down the runway: a pink tutu minidress with a houndstooth blazer and black ankle boots; a pale-lavender column gown with vibrant purple satin elbow-length gloves.

“Now those gloves I like,” Olive said. “They'd go well with my jacket.”

Mickey's favorite look by far was a dove-gray ball gown with delicate beading at the bodice and miles of ruffled tiers. It floated down the runway, and the color was very gentle and unexpected: a modern twist on a traditional “princessy” gown.

As Victoria came out at the end of the show, the crowd rose to their feet and applauded wildly. Walking at her side was Cordy—and she was wearing the dress Mickey had made for her!

“Are you seeing what I'm seeing?” JC almost fell out of his chair. “Mick, that's your dress on the runway at New York Fashion Week!”

Mickey could hardly believe her eyes, and she didn't know what to do when Cordy suddenly jumped off the stage and grabbed her from the audience.

“Come!” she insisted, dragging her back up with her. There Mickey stood, holding Cordy's hand on one side and Victoria's on the other as they bowed together.

“That's my girl!” Olive sobbed. Mr. Kaye offered her his handkerchief, and she blew her nose in it loudly.

Mickey's mom stood up on her chair and whistled through her teeth. “Go, Mickey!” she yelled, and Mickey's classmates all joined in.

Mickey hoped her enthusiastic friends and family wouldn't upset Victoria. It was, after all, her show. Instead, the designer insisted she step forward with Cordy and take her own bow.

“Please give a hand for the real Youthful Exuberance,” Victoria said, pointing to them.

Mickey had never felt so proud and so alive.

When Mr. Kaye walked in the classroom the next day, it was business as usual. “Take out your sketchbooks,” he said, not even pausing to drop his jacket or bag on his chair.

He grabbed a marker and wrote a number six on the SMART Board. “Toughest assignment of the year,” he warned them. “I hope you'll all ready.”

South raised her hand. “Tougher than No Sew and Cordy Vanderweil's party dress? I doubt it,” she said.

“That was child's play,” Mr. Kaye insisted. “You've all experienced New York Fashion Week, so it's time to step up your game.”

He tapped a key on the board, and a slide of one of Victoria's collection appeared on the screen.

“You'll be playing fashion critic,” he said. “I want your opinion on what you saw—what was good, what was bad, what you would change. A thousand-word report on my desk by Friday.”

“You want us to critique Victoria Vanderweil's fall-winter collection?” Gabriel gasped. “And one thousand words? Does ‘a' count as a word?”

“If there are nine hundred ninety-nine other words beside it,” Mr. Kaye said. “And this assignment comes from Victoria herself. She wants to read every single one of your reports.”

Gabriel banged his head on his desk. “This just keeps getting worse!”

Mr. Kaye flipped through the slides. “Choose three you want to critique, and one that you would like to reinvent. Use it to inspire your own personal design.”

“What's the budget?” Mars asked.

“As usual, twenty dollars and feel free to choose scraps from the fabric bin.”

“Are there any guidelines?” South asked.

“For once, there are none,” Mr. Kaye said. “Use your imagination and make it your own.” He flipped to a picture of Cordy and Mickey taking a bow. “The sky's the limit.”

But Mickey didn't even notice he was showing her picture to the class. She was already buried in her sketchbook, dreaming up her next design.

Obviously, I am a HUGE
Project Runway
fan—and season eleven's winner, Michelle Lesniak, is one of my fave designers. She recently rocked the runway on
Project Runway All Stars
, making it all the way to the final four. Her clothes have an effortlessly cool vibe to them, and I love how they move. Michelle was nice enough to answer all my questions. Check out her line at
michellelesniak.com
!

Carrie: When did you know you were going to be a designer?

Michelle:
I've always designed. I don't think it's about it becoming your career; it's part of who you are. Even if I don't design to pay my bills, I'll always be a designer!

Carrie: Who taught you to sew and how old were you?

Michelle:
My mother and grandmother taught me to sew. I probably picked up my first needle when I was five or six.

Carrie: What is the best part of being a fashion designer? What is the hardest part?

Michelle:
I don't know if it's necessarily being a designer, but any career you do out of love is really great. Whether it's designing clothing, being an interior designer, or being a chef: following your dreams and doing what you love to do is the best part.

The hardest part about being a fashion designer is that it's a tough industry. Getting people to realize the value of a garment in this day of throwaway fashion is really difficult. It can be challenging to pay your bills.

Carrie: How would you describe your design aesthetic?

Michelle:
Emotional, layered, romantic, fairy tale–like, whimsical in some aspects, sometimes a little dark.

Carrie: What designers do you idolize?

Michelle:
Designers that can bounce back from financial failure or troubles. Jil Sander is one. Designers that can transform the marketplace: Bottega Veneta. And designers who wear their hearts on their sleeves.

Carrie: What was it like being on
Project Runway
twice? And
winning
?

Michelle:
It was incredibly difficult both times, but not an experience I would trade in for the world. I've met some of the closest friends I've ever had as well as really honed my designs and aesthetic.

Carrie: What advice do you have for kids who want to grow up and follow in your footsteps?

Michelle:
There are so many different careers in the fashion industry. Don't become frustrated if you're not good at drawing or sewing, because you can still find a career even though you may have weaknesses in some areas.