I now have empathy for voodoo dolls.
Not in a literal sense, but the constant pricking with needles in hopes of making a masterpiece slightly warmed my heart towards them.
As Carbondale’s annual fashion show grows closer by the day, so are deadlines. Those with a ticket in hand can’t wait to see dancers weave their movement with structured silhouettes cascading down the runway. Yet what you won’t see are the bleeding fingers, sore muscles, the moments of staring into fabric like it personally offended you, the twitching eyes and the constant whisper of “What am I doing?” murmuring like a cricket in your ear at every stage of the process.
And yet everyone’s excitement to witness this grand happening is what fuels every working hand behind it all. Let alone the passion. At least that’s what keeps the fabric gliding beneath my fingertips.
Attendees’ oohs and ahhs, vocalizing from their throats in admiration is really what keeps this continuously happening. But what really goes behind the planning, let alone the pieces? And the person stepping on the pedal?
There’s something powerful and beautiful about translating a visual behind your eyes (I personally refer to this as delusion) into something real. And I’d personally say that it’s not the final product itself that makes it special, but knowing the process was worth it.
When I was 15, I applied for an apprenticeship that Carbondale Arts was offering to local youth, supported by Reina Katzenberger’s mentorship. There were six of us, and infinite opinions. Deadlines did not care about our creative blocks. Life was getting in the way — school, friends, family, you name it. The garments we created held together, though, and probably better than we all did.
As stressful as it was, that experience taught me a lesson essential to working with a team of creative minds: it’s not easy. It’s brutal and beautiful. Merging six voices into a reasonably cohesive direction is an art in itself.
This year’s “carnival” theme feels like stepping directly inside a designer’s head. The juggling ideas, the roaring doubts, the colors. A concept that perfectly aligns with it all is making sense at midnight and turning questionable once the sun rises.
I figured it felt this way because this demanding process is still relatively new to me, despite having a slight taste of it. I interviewed a couple of my peer designers at Colorado Mountain College (CMC), including someone who has been in the industry for years: CMC’s Fashion Program instructor, Cecilia Metheny. When I asked her whether her perspective on design has changed through this year’s experience, she responded: “Yes. It’s changed me in [turning] what’s in my mind into reality.”
Another participant, 13-year-old Elizebeth Shaw, hopes that people walk out the door keeping in mind “how creative people are in the process … how much work we all put into it.”
Within the fashion industry, especially when designers present to an audience, there’s often little room for error in the standard we set for ourselves. Designers can be perfectionists who romanticize chaos and roll with it, while constantly reminding themselves that imperfection is what makes it feel valuable and surreal.
A crooked stitch can feel human. A slightly uneven hem can feel lived in. Yet it’s the bumps on the road where you realize that fabric has its own personality and sometimes refuses to work with you. All the broken needles and the faint fiber pieces on the floor. It all means trusting what you’re capable of doing and pushing yourself past the edge further than you already have, and truly believing in yourself in the mess you’re caught in.
Behind every look that walks the runway is a designer who doubted it, and themselves, many times.
So when the lights hit and the music starts, know this: You’re not just seeing a garment. You’re witnessing resilience. Collaboration. Negotiation. A shared stress and passion to make it all happen.
You’re experiencing the outcome of what occurs when a room full of local creatives decided to believe in something invisible long enough to make it real.
So yes, maybe I do feel for voodoo dolls. Because sometimes creating something tangible means being poked at, tested and stretched, over and over again, until it feels right and delivers what is expected, and more.
But unlike the doll, we choose it.
The CMC line and many others hit the Carbondale Fashion Show runway March 12-14.