Growing up, it was an accepted fact of life that my mother made my clothes. I had dresses in every silhouette, color and pattern, and as my little princess-obsessed self demanded, they all had twirly skirts. Every year, she made my costumes for halloween; a victorian princess, a vampire, a witch in a billowing black and orange gown...whatever my vivid imagination could dream up. My last request, just two years ago, was to emulate Luna Lovegood -- my mother happily obliged, making me a Hogwarts skirt, shirt, and robes that beat the ones for sale at Universal a hundred times over.
As I got older, my desires transitioned from twirly skirts to the designer outfits I saw in magazines, lovely skirts, lace shirts, cable knit sweaters, plaid scarves... I always had requests. And she always took on the challenges with a smile. I never felt like I was taking advantage of her talent, instead it seemed like my clothing desires fed a creative part of herself that she had kept more or less locked away for the duration of my life, and perhaps longer. But it wasn't until I was a senior in high school that I realized her talent was meant for more than home halloween projects and making me twirly dresses.
My mom, quite by accident, found a design competition sponsored by Keep Orlando Beautiful, which called for designers to create garments completely from recycled materials. We had recently helped my grandmother move, and my mom had been left with a strange collection of about 300 decks of cards, left over from years of pinocle, go fish, and whatever other games my grandparents had religiously played every week. My mother was inspired by the cards, and the chance to design for herself, and began crafting a gown made of playing cards. I remember how nervous she was, and how hard she worked, and how utterly surprised she was when she won best design.
Since then, she has participated in Winter Park Fashion Week, won Orlando Fashion Week's best collection, and created an avant garde tribute to the pulse victims that was the centerpiece of the Headdress Ball in Orlando. Now, she's on to creating a collection to be mass produced for online sales, and working on collections and pieces for several more upcoming runway shows.
I look at her, and I am so proud of how far she has managed to come in just a few years. I love watching her chase the dream she tucked away to raise me and my brother, and I love that I'm able to be her biggest cheerleader as she finds her way in such an intense industry--not to mention my love for all the extra clothes from shows that I get to steal--and I love that I get to point to the amazing things she makes and brag: "yeah, my mom made that."