The Space Between Filters: Finding My Authentic Design Language

It's Thursday morning in LA, just after 9 AM, and I'm curled up in my apartment's window nook watching the October sun cast long shadows across my scattered fabric samples. Yesterday's realization about seeing and being seen has been following me around like a friendly ghost, showing up in unexpected moments.

Last night, I found myself scrolling through my Instagram, something I do mindlessly most evenings. But this time was different. I actually saw my feed – the carefully curated aesthetic, the consistent filter, the strategic angles. And it hit me: there's such a disconnect between the Mandy I'm becoming and the Mandy I've been presenting online.

It's not that my Instagram is fake exactly. It's just... incomplete. It's Mandy with all the messy parts edited out.

After Marcus thanked me for truly seeing his work yesterday, I went back to the studio and stared at my collection for hours. The layered fabrics with their interplay of transparency and structure suddenly felt like the most honest thing I've created. They don't hide the raw edges or the imperfect seams – they incorporate them as part of the narrative.

So why am I still hiding mine?

This morning I did something terrifying – I posted a completely unfiltered studio shot. My collection in progress, my chaotic workspace, my tired face with yesterday's mascara smudged under my eyes. The caption was simple: "The space between the perfect and the process. This is where the real design happens."

My finger hovered over the share button for a full three minutes before I finally pressed it. Then immediately panicked and threw my phone across the couch.

When I finally checked an hour later, the response was... kind of amazing? People were DMing me saying how refreshing it was, how they could relate, how they could feel the authenticity in the work.

Professor Winters even commented: "Now your social media matches your design voice. Bold move, Mandy."

I'm realizing that this evolution isn't just happening in my internal world or even just in my designs – it needs to extend to how I present myself in all spaces. The authentic voice I'm finding in my collection needs to be the same voice I use when I talk about my work, when I post online, when I move through the industry.

It's terrifying and liberating all at once. Like I've been holding my breath for years and am finally learning how to exhale.

My first class starts in twenty minutes, and I'm bringing this new awareness with me today – this commitment to the space between filters, where the real design happens. Both in fashion and in life.