Strike a pose - there’s nothing to it

By Antonio Machado Multimedia Editor [ Editor’s Note: This is a first-person account of participating in the Framingham State Fashion Show. ] Dreams change, trends come and go, but friendships never go out of style. So, when one of your best friends asks you to fulfill a life-long dream of yours by modeling her collection, you refuse to “squabble” the opportunity. You do, however, begin to freak out, because this is more than a “kiki” with a close friend - this is the Framingham State Fashion Club’s annual Spring Fashion show in front of hundreds of your peers, mentors, and their families. Luckily, you aren’t alone because alongside you are dozens of those same peers. All just as naked. All just as afraid. All just as ready to serve charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and talent. From the outside, the runway may seem like glitz and glamour. Models glide through the spotlight like a knife in butter, their heels sharpened by the flashing cameras. But from the inside? The threads designers had spent the past year weaving are slowly coming apart as they get ready to face the scorching hot lights of the runway. Decorated with anxiety, stress, a little bit of body glitter, and absolutely no eyeliner, because “Both my f**king eyeliner pens are running out of ink, and I’m losing it” as delicately said by model Sage Sampson, the inside of the fashion show is just as intricate as the garments showcased, and there’s no way for the audience to see either - so, let me help you take a look. We had all spent the weeks leading up to the show in cahoots. Fittings to make sure the garments fit appropriately alongside multiple training sessions for models to practice their walks had created a close-knit community. However, this was also the amalgamation of a semester (or more) worth of these designers’ time, creativity, heart, and souls - so the pressure was on. Models and designers were put on a very strict timeline - we were expected at the secondary gym at 3:30 p.m. for a 4 p.m. dress rehearsal, which would end at 5:30 p.m.. Following a 45-minute dinner break after rehearsal, doors would open at 6:30 p.m. for the two-hour showcase. After spending a brief period of time anxiously walking in heels about McCarthy, I made my way over to the second gym, where the few of us who had arrived by 3:15 were shortly herded to the main gym. Laura Kane, professor of Fashion Design and Retailing, came out and explained the way the rehearsal would work alongside its purpose and how the models should treat the runway. “Look at all of these other people we have here today. We have Campus Events here helping with setup. We also have the television studio production class led by Professor Paul Booley,” she said “It is 3:54. At 4:15, we are starting this dress rehearsal. Everybody will need to be dressed with shoes on, and then we are going to start,” Kane added. And suddenly, it was crunch time. I was sweating. My Doja Cat Scarlet Tour Meme T-shirt came off and was immediately used to dry off. Accompanying me was Chase Forehand, also known as Kandy Khane, who had been tasked with putting me in drag for the runway. He said, “When I saw the collection in the sewing labs, I was so heavily impressed. When she asked me to help out for the fashion show, my inner child screamed. Drag queens’ intentions are always twisted in the media, but at the end of the day, we represent art and joy through performance, and this collection brought that idea to life.” As an avalanche of models and designers flooded the second gym, which is exponentially smaller than the main gymnasium, the scale of the show quickly became tangible, and everyone suddenly felt the nerves for the runway-to-come. Heels click-clacking about. Fine. Fresh. Feminine. People styled to 11. Gentlemen sweating. Bodies like WOW. People clamoring for sewing needles, makeup, makeup wipes, eyeliner, heels, hair, their mothers - it was a cacophony of glamour. “I feel stressed ‘cause everything is really last minute,” said model Cece Gonzalez. “Other than that, I feel great. … I’m just scared for the yelling … because in school, they love screaming for you and it’s more nerve-wracking.” Model Anita Loughlin said, “That’s what always gets me, too. When I’m walking and everyone starts screaming and shouting. Like, it just messes me up, dude.” Model Natalie Moreta cut in and said,“But when they start yelling, just feel like you’re that b***h. Just be like, ‘You’re eating it out there!’” Wrestling is usually done with minimal clothing, but today? Wrestling was done with the clothing itself. Throughout the gym, last minute additions, repairs, and removals to each and every garment were heard. People were scattered everywhere. Designers were coordinating their final exits with their models or trying to get everyone dressed and prepared. Models were practicing their walks - some of which were wearing their garments for the first time. Others were socializing and taking the moment to appreciate the wonderful community. Everyone was looking gorgeous. At this point, My Doja Cat Scarlet Tour Meme T-shirt had become drenched. People were rehearsing in waves, and as people came back from their rehearsal, the gym became a whirlwind of frantic adjustment. “I can’t breathe while I’m doing this,” said Emily Crossin, a model and the Fashion Club social media Chair, as she was putting on her gorgeously rhinestoned corset. “I’m skinny as f**k. I’m stressed as f**k, but I’m excited as f**k because this is so fun. “I thrive in environments of complete chaos, so I’m having a great time right now. … We have such an incredibly diverse group of designs this year, which is one of my favorite things. … It’s just really cool to see everyone’s creative processes come together because you don’t see it until the day of,” Emily added. I asked my dear friend and designer whose collection I was wearing, Fashion Club President Aili Schiavoni, to immediately put me in my incredibly heavy garment so she would be free to do her duties as president without worrying about me. “I am nervous,” said Aili as she came to check up on her models. “I’m always nervous before a performance, but at the same time, it’s not the same kind of nervous energy I thought I would have because I know the point of this collection is to be fun.” Aili, alongside many of the other designers in the show, had countless sleepless nights in the Fashion Labs working to guarantee her collection would live and breathe as she intended. “I think that because I was working on everything so separately, to see it all finally sit together is truly a new experience,” she said. “I was really nervous it was not going to look cohesive, but seeing you all together made me realize … we’re just a bunch of girly pops having fun.” Schiavoni’s collection was the last in the entire show, but our moment in rehearsal was finally here, and we made our way over to the gym. In previous years, models were kept backstage during the show, which seeing that it’s dim and compact, is completely insane. Behind the curtains, stray gym equipment decorated the corners and flurries of models patiently walked up the steepest ramp known to man to make their way to the runway. While there, we were met with terrible news. The mechanism of Emily’s “wing” had malfunctioned. A screw had both metaphorically and literally come loose. As Aili panicked, I dried off my sweat on just about any surface I could find and sat with Emily trying to navigate the storm, knowing there was no eye in sight and we were in for a hurricane. Sage, Emily, and I all began up the ramp to the stage. Aili had decided to run the rehearsal as planned and fix the wing during the break - but rehearsal had far breached into the time of our break. By now, it was 6 p.m, about half an hour past when we were supposed to have finished, and we were only now going to end the dress rehearsal - and my makeup hadn’t even started. Once the curtain opened for me, I was immediately met with shock. The runway seemed so much shorter standing on it. I had forgotten to do half the poses I’d rehearsed, and the next thing I knew, it was time to go back to the second gym and put my face on. One of the inner pieces of my skirt broke, but Aili said, “If I’m not worried about it, you don’t need to worry about it,” so I went back to the gym with nary a worry in sight. Chase sat me down and we immediately got started. For the next hour, my eyes were closed. I simply became a canvas through which Aili’s vision would come to life. Cheers, screams, and a few tears all echoed throughout the wonderful acoustics of the second gym, but the fear that I’d make a fool of myself was the only thing echoing inside my head. Fierce. Ugly. Glamazon. Chud. My anxiety and excitement were in an endless waltz, and their dance only stopped because our run time was approaching with a speed hitherto undreamt of, and I had no more time to think about myself. What felt like 15 minutes was an hour and a half, and suddenly, we were called to the main gym. I grabbed my Doja Cat Scarlet Tour Meme T-shirt, placed it under my armpit, and scurried over alongside Chase. We stood there. All our nerves hand-in-hand. We watched the collections before us, and then we began to line up. Emotions were at their fever pitch, and as Aili’s eyes began to water, we all shared a group hug, and in that moment, our hearts all beat at the same pace. Sage was herded on stage, and I knew it was my time. I threw caution, otherwise known as my Doja Cat Scarlet Tour Meme T-shirt, to the wind, and stepped into the spotlight. Now? Sissy that walk. [ Editor’s Note: Anita Loughlin is a Staff Writer for The Gatepost. ]