Runway of One

It all started in my fashion capstone class, the last needed credential before graduating. In a classroom of one other student, day one of class, we were tasked with coordinating and executing a fashion show. ( What was cool was thst my peer and I went about it in completely opposite ways. While I went solo, he built a team to help him which was highly intelligent, and the one thing I would dop differently next time in producing this whole ordeal. Don't get me wrong, I did this solo because it was always my dream to hold a fashion show, and I wanted to prove to myself I could do it on my own, but in the real fashion world, it's not lost on me that a well-rounded team elevates the show as a whole.). Nervous and excited, I jumped in right away. We were informed my partner Von would go first with his collection, followed by me, and it was to be ended with a wearable arts collection from the garment construction students. I first made up a concept board and sketches to get inspiration. I then needed materials and models. Pulling materials was easy, and so was coming up with a concept. I landed on Dreamland, the inspiration being a city girl take on an Alice in Wonderland world, blending magic and whimsy with reality.

The other things we were tasked with were:

• Finding a host for the show (lovely Aurora Banks was up for the challenge!)

• Making a Save the Date and Invite (which an intern took on for us)

• Model + Talent outreach plans, Sheet, + Tracker

• Task list + Budget

• Portfolio Outline

• Script

• Decor

• 30 sec pitch + Presentation

Models I knew would be a challenge. We needed 12 each for our collection, and at least 6 to contribute to the Wearable Arts section. As an introverted extrovert floater friend, I knew this was not majority of my group's cup of tea, and the interested few, spoiler alert, didn't make it to the final show date.

I was eagerly surprised at where I found my models. I went through Indeed (got taken down for not being a "real employer"), then moved to Eventbrite where 15 (free) tickets were sold, and I also took to Instagram, a google survey, posting flyers, Handshake, and Facebook to find models too. I was wringing in all these people, direct and detailed from the start regarding dates, fittings, etc. and what was the number one reason for fall out? Failure to mind dates! And, that's with me angling around work schedules, including mine. Pulling off a fashion show solo is no small feat—but doing it while replacing models week after week? Let’s just say, my calendar and I got very close. Over seven weeks, I was casting new models, sometimes multiple in a week. And yes, even the day before the show, I was still sending out measurements and hoping for confirmation texts. But somehow, through the last-minute swaps, fitting reschedules, and spreadsheet chaos, the vision held strong. It wasn’t perfect—but it was real, and I was going to make it happen no matter what. I wouldn’t trade the wild ride for anything. I strengthened my hustle muscle, my patience, and releasing control vs tightening my grip. And! I totally survived to tell the tale. Who knew?

You'll be proud and surprised to know, I had to redo my collection THRICE. Three. Times!! The first version? Too many textures. The second? Too many colors. The third? Just right—like a fashion-forward Goldilocks moment. Navigating consistent unclear feedback tied with opposing fashion viewpoints with a professor whose attention was often elsewhere even when tapped for help wasn’t easy, but I trusted my instincts, refined the vision, and landed on a palette I fell in love with: soft baby pink, classic black and white, deep navy, and little mossy green and maroon accents waiting to bloom.

Alongside selecting models and curating garments, a personal and group portfolio were also required in our show. That was definitely my favorite part! I know writing and photos/visual aesthetics like the back of my hand and I got to put them together to make some magic. For my personal portfolio I spoke on my magazine, my lovely blog here, and my collection. Here lies the finished product:

https://video.wixstatic.com/video/b47dec_c31234ece2664420997ed3b170895c13/1080p/mp4/file.mp4

For the group portfolio I brought my solo collection into a shared creative space. While each of our concepts stood on their own, I fused my work into the larger presentation through scenic mood boards, and thoughtful documentation of our assigned tasks throughtout the process. I proudly upycled 95% of the collection! The breakdown: 80% repurposed from my own closet (things I hadn't worn in quite some time or needed sprucing), 5% were borrowed or bought accesories, and 10% were lovingly sourced from thrift shops and donations. Every look certainly had a story. We included budget logs, visual progress shots, plenty of behind-the-scenes glimpses, and more—because the process was full of in depth little moments that deserved to be seen, too. Here is the viewing link.

More pics from the show are on my Instagram!🩵 @tiarosalie

After checking off all the other boxes, the big day eventually came! Show day? What a chaotic, beautiful hellhole—sweetened with self-made little pockets of peace. Models were operating on their own time zones, the wearable arts team was stretched thin, and I found myself stepping in to lend a hand where I could—which, in the moment, meant missing the chance to guide my own finale flood. Luckily, the vets who I strategically placed in the front and back of the line, were able to follow suit after Von's collection rolled out again. Some of my models missed key cues or hadn’t attended run-throughs, and it showed. But even in the lulls and times I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut tight, there was momentum—thanks in part to my partner, who helped run the show flow twice to give the wearable arts models time to slip into delicate pieces like a pasta skirt or a newspaper dress without disaster. The time sped up and slowed down so much during that show hour. Amidst it all, I carved out space to celebrate in small ways and while mostly prior to showtime, it helped make sure my spirit was accounted for, and that included: tuning into my inner child who would’ve been over-the-moon proud, while also giving present-day me permission to feel the stress, the nerves, and the fatigue and reach/react through it, not to it. I treated myself to a well-earned burger and fries while waiting on the models, stole breaths between the rush, and reminded myself—This is it. You had dreamed of this, and now, you're doing it!

Friends and family showed up, and my parents even FaceTimed in from across the country in California. My heart was so, so immensely full. Everyone there knew how deeply fashion had rooted itself into my story, and this moment felt like the bloom. I even wore a layered black reflective Kate Spade dress, because of course I needed a little cinematic moment for my own final look. My collection, the show—it was messy, it was beautiful, and it was entirely mine.

Looking back, I wouldn’t change a thing—not even the last-minute model swaps or the third iteration of my collection. Every hurdle shaped the final product, and more importantly, shaped me. I exercised patience, resilience, creativity, and independence, and it all paid off in the end. Pulling off a fashion show solo wasn’t just about clothes on a runway—it was about persistence, creativity, and learning to stay grounded when everything around me felt anything but. It reminded me that even when things get messy, magic can still unfold. And maybe that’s the beauty of it all—fashion, like life, isn’t meant to be flawless. It’s meant to be felt. I poured my heart into this show, and in return, it gave me a memory stitched with pride, resilience, and joy. If little me could’ve seen it all, one of her big dreams coming true of putting on a fashion show, she wouldn’t have believed all the work it took—but I think she’d smile proudly and say, “I knew you could do it.”