Alexander Wang for Parsons?

So....now I've pulled the Photoshop skills I learned in digital class and have started applying them to my Public Relations class! My final project in my elective is to come up with a 12-piece collection of Parsons logowear that is in collaboration with a successful Parsons alumni, as well as plan, market, and budget the launch party. I was given Alexander Wang, so my collection focused on soft tees, tanks, and loungewear.









I was able to flat my collection, then scan the flats into Photoshop and add color and my signature logo for the collaboration.






















Hopefully I can continue to add the digital effects into flats and specs for IS and other classes in the future!

Digital Collection Beginnings

In class we are learning to finally bring our hand-drawn flats from Integrated Studio into the computer to add color, prints, and specs. This adds a whole new dimension to the clothes we can design-- the addition of digital prints and colors gives a wider variety of choices at our fingertips that otherwise would be overlooked using goauche.



Starting with the basics, we've scanned and played with the thresholds of two tops, two bottoms, and a dress that we've designed. I used flats from my Salt collection in September.



We have to create two color palettes for our flats to include a large number of the prints we worked on last session. One palette of mine is based on New England sunsets, focusing on deep desaturated blues with shocking golds and reds.



The other color palette is inspired by a Technicolor Garden. There are pop-colored florals and prints along with sorbet hues.


Both palettes will be interesting to further develop for the final. Onto applying the prints to figures next!

Making the Stripe Shirt

For my Integrated Design class, I was assigned to design and sew a button-down shirt with stripes somehow incorporated into the design. The stripe part was assigned after the button-down shirt part unfortunately, so I had already planned out the perfect puff-sleeved blouse before realizing there was more to the assignment. Despairing re-sketching my idea with striped fabric, I realized as I drew that there were other ways to work the stripe into the project. It would require a lot of patience and exact measurements, but I could work a stripe into the actual pattern of the garment and eliminate the need for a stripe shirting fabric.

I cut a basic fitted shirt pattern from my slopers, then worked in a continuous stripe by slicing, building upon, and taping my pattern pieces. Many hours and yards of pattern paper later, I had my shirt pattern, consisting of 16 paper pieces and over twice that number in fabric pieces.


I purchased a nice khaki cotton weave, a tad sturdier than normal shirting but with a more interesting texture to its surface. For the stripe, I took a chance and used scraps of Zac Posen floral organza. The organza was difficult to cut, and only time will tell in terms of how it sews.


I hope to achieve a continuous stripe on my shirt, going from front to back around the sleeves. I want the stripe to look almost fluid, like in the designs of Miuccia Prada for both her Prada and Miu Miu lines.

Electricity

It is completely natural, and yet completes that which is completely unnatural. Electricity runs our world. We can’t have light, heat, power,
communication, just about anything without its presence. It is the juice that fuel New York City every single waking moment. It’s hard to imagine that human life existed for such a long period of time without it.


Electricity is colorless, matterless, and locationless. Yet at the same time, it can be every color, moving, and everywhere around us. It is incredible the power it holds, and yet it is generated through simply the attraction of a negative ion to a positive ion.




I love walking through the city at night and seeing the brilliant colors and life that electricity runs. Neon signs and backlit displays in stores create a distinctive ambiance, and their glow is so bright that it leaves a mark on my vision when I look away. Building churn with energy and buzz; the Empire State Building changes colors and forever has its many windows lit.


These neon colors inspire brilliant apparel. It makes perfect sense: naturally we want to look as captivating, eye-catching, and impactful as the powered lights and building around us. Designers like Michael Kors, Nanette Lepore, and Celine have incorporated these bright ideas into their current resortwear collections.

Just like electricity, I want my designs to power and inspire those who see and wear them.

Subway Submersion

I find myself on the subway most days for one reason or another, be it classes or my internship or going out with friends. Because every station is so similar and so ingrained into my routine, I barely notice my surroundings as I sit on the nearest bench and wait for the Downtown 1 train. However, today I decide to inspect my environment a little more carefully.



Subways, also so seemingly simple, are incredibly designed. Not only are they engineered to transport hundreds of thousands of people every day, they are also aesthetically considered down to every last tile. Today I stared at the geometric patterns on the terminal floor that formed zig zags. They merged into the canary yellow dotted strips alongside the tracks, marking the area as a dangerous place to stand when trains were coming in. Inside the silver train cars are carefully-placed steel poles to hold onto, accompanying the desaturated blue-violet seats. The color of the seats particularly gets me; they are such a beautiful, calming shade, one that would certainly look beautiful on a gown.

Then there are the more blatant designs. In every subway stop, there are mosaic tile designs that characterize the stop. My favorite is the beautiful and intricate ceramic tiles at the Museum of Natural History.

I love both the subtle and sleek color choices as well as the more fine arts-like mosaic work of subway stops. These characteristics in combination remind me of sportswear shown this past September by Alexander Wang and Rag & Bone.

Nerdy Bliss

This year was my first Comic Con. And I have to say, I'm sad that I haven't come to one sooner. We all have those deep, dark, secret obsessions over video games, comics, or anime. Basically everyone falls into at least one of those categories of obsession, if not more than one; if they aren't, then they would were they exposed to it. The New York Comic Con is a chance for every person to embrace that obsession with pride alongside other closet nerds. They are then joined by not-closet, more open nerds, making for quite an eclectic mob united by their obsession.


The numbers that turn out for the Con are immaculate. So many people are present, young and old, some in elaborate costumes, some decked in merch, some just dressed normally. I struggled through crowds of Pokemon and Zeldas, getting stopped repeatedly to get my picture taken. I nabbed a few shots of my own with the likes of the Silver Surfer, Wario, and some anime cosplayers. It's amazing how high the enthusiasm is, how low the shame is, how everyone is not themselves.


That element of a second, perfect identity is what gives the Comic Con its allure. The anime chicks and video game characters and superheroes are written to stand for something. They are visually trademarked, fabulously colored and styled, loved by all. And by going to Comic Con, you can get the chance to be one of them just by putting on their costume. It serves as a reminder to me of the visual and psychological power of costume and fashion in general; it changes not only who people perceive you to be, but also how you perceive yourself.

Bookworm

In order to design a collection in fashion, like any project, you have to start with an idea, or a base inspiration. So my Integrated Studio teachers tell me, assigning me homework to retreat to the New York Public Library's image library and find 10 images that resonate within our creativity. Internet research is not allowed, all images must be taken from the library.


I had always intended to eventually make it over to the library when I had free time. (Which does not actually exist for fashion students.) But now the assignment forced me to go and delve into the resources there.


One day, I headed over after class, and was intrigued by what I saw. The library's old building was statuesque and full of pride in its old age. The lions in front, the classical influence on the architecture, the location near Bryant Park -- certainly the building was a step above the skyscrapers that surrounded it.


In the newer building of the library, there is a startling number of books, more than a few lifetimes' worths of reading. Getting in and out is rather serious business with metal detectors and police officers, but once inside, you feel extracted from the city outside. There is information and imagery on every imaginable topic; in fact, the librarians are often hungry for a challenging topic to search.


My first trip to the library was on behalf of my school, but my next few trips have been on behalf of my own desire and hunger for knowledge.

Old New York

New York City: skyscrapers, taxis, tourists, Times Square, smog, trash, homeless people, traffic, delis. This is a fairly accurate stereotype of Manhattan, especially along any of the major avenues. On this particular day, I found myself walking down 7th Avenue to my History of Design class downtown, and this sensory rush was giving me a migraine. I hit the classic orange hand crosswalk light, and made a left down a side street to head towards the 12th Street building.


I quickly found myself relieved of the migraine. The cars and sounds and people were left behind me as I walked down 13th Street towards 6th Avenue. Trees were planted alongside the sidewalk and next to doorways, with black cast-iron grates artfully allowing the roots space in the pavement. The skyscrapers were replaced with older buildings, surely skyscrapers in their day but now simply aged, vintage-like residences and local businesses. The red and brown bricks had a certain indescribable warmth, something that the newer buildings lacked. Beautiful Art Noveau-like fences and doorways lined the block.

Then I was on 6th Avenue, and the stereotypes re-ensued.

While I find myself highly inspired by the modernity of New York, I also enjoy looking to the past. The vintage quality of older sections of the city possesses an authenticity that the newer parts have yet to earn.

Times Square

Totally cliche. I know. But really, there is a reason why everybody constantly photographs Times Square. Why tourists visit, why businesses pay scary amounts of rent, why everything seems to merge and branch from it: because you can get away with anything.


It doesn't matter how crazy or bizarre or uncalled for (there is certainly plenty of all the above). You will find the strangest and most diverse of people, be they from a distant country or just promoting a Broadway show. You will find the most out-of-control stores with intense decor and intenser prices. You will find seizure-inducing lights and advertisements bigger than a typical house. You can hear the voices and see the glow of Times Square at all hours of the day.


For some reason, this insanity is considered acceptable here. I'm not quite sure why, but this insanity has a certain appeal. Yes, I would like to walk into a chocolate-scented Hershey's store, or a Disney shop with a life-size princess castle in it. It's almost like a fantasy or a twisted dream.


People often associate the entire city of New York with Times Square, which rather bothers me, despite how much I enjoy the area. Not at of New York is that tacky, flashy, commercial, and tourist-filled. It's kind of like the frosting on a cupcake from Crumbs (located on Broadway just south of Times Square), giving a fantastic and attention-grabbing finish to a rich, complex cake beneath it.


The craziness that Times Square gets away with is something all designers wish they could get away with. If we did design whatever we wanted, however, we wouldn't sell very much. Times Square serves as a reminder to me when I am designing that I can envision and pen my most whimsical ideas so as not to forget them; but that I also need to consider the core of my collection, the cake of my cupcake, the real city of my New York.

The Nature of New York

Catch me on a Friday evening after getting my paycheck at Starbucks, and you will hear me roar about how many taxes are being taken out., where is the money going, why me, along with various other gripes. However, I will always say conversely that if some of my money is going towards New York City’s parks and upkeep, I will gladly pay. For how many people live in even just Manhattan alone, the city does an excellent job of providing us with nature in and amongst the most urbanized settings. It often goes unnoticed because of its subtle presence, but even little details like potted plants along Broadway in the Garment District catch my eye and uplift me.


Sometimes I choose to take the long way home from school. just to go through Bryant Park, which is my favorite. By day, the park’s trees match the height of nearby buildings and shade passer-throughs just enough. People rush by on 6th Avenue, but slow down as they pass to enjoy a moment or two of extraction from the concrete, urban world. The grand fountain entices adults and children alike to walk over and toss a coin in, perhaps to wish that all moments in life were as serene as those spent in the park.

By night, however, the park develops a new type of charm, something more unusual, sophisticated, exclusive yet inviting. A restaurant and bar opens late, illuminating the west side of the park with warm yellow lights and hanging lanterns. It quickly fills its tables with all types of New Yorkers, from couples to business men. The lawn is light by a giant set of stadium lights from atop the nearby MetLife building. People cover the lawn, some laying down, others sitting in the chartreuse chairs, others singing and dancing. The park glows with a certain chic, modern ambiance, but it is still very much so a site dedicated to nature. The tall trees encase the little glowing bubble within the midtown skyscrapers.



I love the parallels between natural life and city life, and how the two cross over so fluidly, yet only in selective locations. I also love the human ability to move between the two and embrace the aesthetic purity of both. Both the geometry of urban life and the curves of natural shapes heavily influence my designs, often both at the same time in one look or garment.



Perhaps the urban jungle and the real jungle can't truly exist side by side; but New York certainly proved that each can compromise to co-exist in a beautiful, sophisticated way.

Stary-eyed at Starbucks

I confess to being a caffeine addict. Not addict, in the sense that I can’t exist without it. I can go days at a time without any and I’m completely fine. However, I simply can’t walk past a coffee shop without going in and getting something unless I already have a cup in my hands. (Unless its Dunkin’ Donuts, which I despise.)

Not surprisingly, the coffee shop I spend the most time at is Starbucks. I have become a regular at about four Starbucks shops in midtown, and at least three downtown. I love Starbucks for many reasons, but to name a few major ones: its availability everywhere in the city; its customizablilty of drinks and consistancy at different shops; its ethical approach to purchasing and selling coffee; its urban-yet-low-key, modern-yet-classic vibes; and most of all, its high values placed on customer service.

Naturally, just buying the coffee twice a day wasn’t enough for me. I decided to get a job as a barista in the nearest Starbucks around the corner from my building. Now I got to learn about the inner workings of a company that came to define New York City’s lifestyle.



You can only imagine the excitement I had when I received my employment package: the green apron, the black logo hat, a barista shorthand dictionary, and a pound of Pike Place beans. Along with the package, I also got the serious discounts, including free beverages and pastries while at work and a thirty percent discount outside of the store and on products.

After working there for about a month, I still hold Starbucks as a gift from the gods in my mind. Their coffee rocks of course, and ambiance. That perfect organization, professionalism, and vibe continues into the workplace. I feel cool and classy as the head barista, customizing cappuccinos and prepping the pumpkin spice lattes. It amazes me how Starbucks as a brand has made itself into a cool barnd through and through. None of it comes up short. It is organized, urban, forward-thinking, and green on every level.


Starbucks seems disconnected from my true career goals as a fashion designer on the surface. But if you look carefully, there are ties: handcrafted designs, agility, charisma and likability, maintenance of a certain indescribable "cool." I want these qualities in my design work as well as my beverages.

Urban Geometry

Sprinting around the city from task to task is what I do everyday. It is my routine, regular and perfect and repeated (with the exception of occasional interruptions like hurricanes). In my own schedule pattern, I began to look around my terrain and notice the city’s patterns. Of course, there are scheduled trains, stoplights, store openings, trash removals, all somehow syncing perfectly with each other and the city’s inhabitants. But there is also an aesthetic schedule: a subtle yet distinct pattern of all the concrete panels and painted details and building silhouettes. I started photographing some of the most intriguing patterns, such as the subway tiles on the right, which I saturated to bring out
the interesting tones in the cement.


It’s almost hilarious how I complain about measuring everything and account for details, when New York’s amazing patterns and geometry are all a direct result of this exactness. The buildings, the street panels, the road lines, it’s all based on design precision and perfect repetition. Seeing the immaculateness and scale of this design perfection makes me realize the importance of all the little details.


In a way, the geometry in the city’s design inspires my own design, both in graphics and in fashion. The clean contrast and sharp lines represent the ideas of a modern, advanced age.


I also am in love with the cohesiveness of all the shapes and patterns, as if they were all looks from New York’s latest collection. They all seem to blend together into one large, continuous machine. The mix of perspective,texture, and muted color undeniably stand for an urban lifestyle. In my own work, I strive to keep this same modern feel pulsing through my aesthetic.


Though I may not be an architect, landscaper, or
engineer, I can certainly still appreciate and take from the designs I literally walk over everyday of my life.

Looking back, moving forward

What is design? Design is a series of aesthetic choices meant to satisfy a presented problem. Too easy, the administration has pounded that question and answer into our heads since day one. I know what design is, I know that I'm at design school.


Then, what is art? Art is a series of aesthetic choices also, but they aren't meant to satisfy any presented problems aside from the commissioner or artist's own mental state. Once again, too easy. All Parsons students are made aware of this distinction, and they are kept aware of it every semester in their History of Design lectures.


So what is original design? Now we get into more intellectually difficult matters. Our school stimulates us to keep asking this question at every moment, but it certainly does not provide us with an answer, nor any guarantee of ever finding one. I suppose the journey for this answer is the narrative of every designer's story. And it is doubtful whether the answer to this question is ever truly and completely answered.


As a designer, I have of course progressed along my own narrative. I have loved art and drawing since picking up a pencil at age 4, probably due to having a father who filled our house with paintings, art supplies, and comic books. During my early years, most of my work pertained to video games, superheros, and manga. As I grew into fashion design in high school, I again designed and produced garments that were based on pieces I had seen and liked. I thought nothing of how I designed until I got to Parsons and was introduced to a new level of innovative thinking.


I am naturally a very competitive person. Being around other designers during foundation year who were able to think so uniquely and create with such precision and craftsmanship almost scared me. It made me question my own ability. I knew I had the capability to imagine and conceptualize just as much as others, but I need to learn how to truly tap into my deepest level of thought to uncover the essence of my own unique ideas.


On my journey, I have repeatedly experienced a harsh truth: design that is original in every way does not seem to exist. All design is derived from some source of inspiration or memory. Just as in the movie Inception, true inception is impossible without the use of technology to break into a person's inner conscience. This is true outside of design as well; organisms, chemicals, languages, everything seems to have a core or skeleton that underlies every components' structures.

However, what isn't the same every time is the thought and emotion behind the design. There are certain visual triggers that evoke memories and emotions from deep within us, and no two people respond in the same way. Not just design can do this, but also art, music, smells, tastes. These stimulations not only evoke feelings, but also were created with those feelings in mind. This once again proves that no design is based off of nothing at all, but it does allude to a different theory: that designs can be original based on the unique combinations of emotions that have inspired them.

In my own design style, I love to depict women that are beautiful and powerful. From a young age, I have been an avid video gamer, particularly of Tomb Raider. Lara Croft to this day is one of my greatest inspirations, a woman with wit, wisdom, beauty, and as much strength as she believes in herself to have. Also, action movies with female protagonists (e.g. Kill Bill, Sucker Punch, Aeon Flux, True Grit) inspire me. I want to be these women, and I want to possess their strength of mind, body, and most of all, self-faith.


This desire of mine always underlies my designs. My foundation year body of work, particularly in the second semester, all stems from this idea teamed alongside other connotations and emotions for viewers. Connotations stem from past experience and are familiar, but new combinations of these connotations can establish an entire new experience. Like a new recipe or pair of Jeffrey Campbell wedges, I like to mix up the unexpected to create originals from classics.


Is my investigation thus far into design answer the question of the existence of original design? Probably not, but it gives me yet another clue to the end solution.