When Your Design Journey Becomes Your Life Journey

It's Friday morning in LA, and I'm sitting cross-legged on my apartment floor surrounded by fabric swatches, sketches, and an embarrassing number of coffee cups. The sunlight's hitting everything just right, making this creative chaos look almost intentional – like some artsy Instagram flat lay instead of the evidence of my 11 PM design frenzy last night.

This week has been... transformative? Is that too dramatic? Whatever, it's my blog, I'm allowed to be dramatic.

Something shifted for me yesterday afternoon during my studio time. I was finalizing the patterns for my asymmetrical jacket (yes, the controversial one), when this freshman stopped by my workspace. She hovered awkwardly before asking if my designs were "supposed to look like that." Classic freshman move.

But instead of my usual defensive reaction, I found myself calmly explaining the intentional irregularity, how it creates unexpected movement, how traditional symmetry doesn't always serve real bodies. The words flowed easily, confidently – not like I was convincing her, but like I was simply stating facts I knew to be true.

And that's when it hit me: I wasn't doubting myself anymore. Not completely, anyway.

This whole week has been building to this quiet little moment. From Sunday's declaration to be authentic, through Professor Rivera's challenging critique, to that conversation with Nico about creative integrity – it's like I've been assembling pieces of a me that's always existed but never fully expressed.

The irony isn't lost on me that as a fashion design student, I've been so focused on creating external transformations that I almost missed my own internal one. But isn't that the thing about growth? You're so busy living through it that you rarely notice it happening until something makes you pause and look back.

I'm not saying I've suddenly become this fully-realized, confident designer overnight. I still second-guessed my color choices twice this morning, and I definitely texted Jen asking if my concept was "too much." But the difference is I'm questioning from a place of refinement now, not from fear.

Maybe the most authentic thing isn't having unwavering confidence in every choice, but having the courage to make those choices anyway, knowing they might not be perfect but they're genuinely yours.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go make another coffee and tackle these sleeve patterns. The real work is just beginning.

- Mandy