The Ripple Effect: How Every Connection Shapes My Design DNA
It's Friday morning in LA, just after 9 AM, and I'm people-watching from my favorite campus bench, coffee in hand, mind wandering between class prep and deeper thoughts. Something Professor Chen said yesterday has been living rent-free in my head: "Your designs are a conversation between everyone who's ever influenced you."
At first, I rolled my eyes (internally, I'm not that bold). But walking home last night, I started mentally mapping the fingerprints others have left on my work. My mom's practical approach to beauty. Dad's appreciation for quality materials. My ex who introduced me to sustainable fashion. Professor Winters pushing me beyond safe choices. Even Marcus, whose vulnerability in yesterday's follow-up critique somehow gave me permission to expose more raw edges in my own work.
It's like my collection is this living document of relationships – some nurturing, some challenging, all necessary.
Remember that unfiltered studio post I shared? Tara texted me about it this morning: "This is the most you thing you've ever posted." Coming from someone who's known me since freshman year, that hit different. She's seen every iteration of Mandy – the people-pleaser, the perfectionist, the occasional hot mess – and somehow she recognized this current version as the most authentic.
What's wild is how this awareness is physically manifesting in my designs. The transparent layers now include these hand-stitched elements that connect each section – a visual metaphor I didn't even realize I was creating until Marcus pointed it out. "It's like you're showing how everything is connected but still distinct," he said.
I've spent so much time thinking about finding "my voice" as a designer that I missed something crucial: my voice isn't just mine. It's this unique chorus shaped by every significant connection I've had. The professors who challenged me. The friends who supported me. Even the relationships that hurt – they're all threads in this fabric.
This doesn't mean I'm not original. It means I'm not alone. And there's something incredibly freeing about that realization.
My phone just buzzed with a reminder – studio session in twenty minutes. Today I'm bringing this new awareness with me: my evolution isn't a solo journey. It's this beautiful, messy collaboration with everyone who's entered my life and left their mark – for better or worse. And my designs are stronger for it.
Maybe that's the most authentic thing about me – not that I've found my voice, but that I've finally recognized whose voices helped shape it.