Design Disaster Read online

  I remember how tingly I felt when I first walked into Mood, and the feeling is back. What Mood is to fabric, M&J is to embellishments. Never in my life have I seen so many trimmings. Everywhere I look I see more lace, ribbons, studs, and crystals. If I were to dump the contents of the store on the floor, it would be deep enough for a swan dive.

  I check Taylor’s list and take in every corner and shelf. What I’m seeing is only the beginning. As I learned from my shopping trip for Laura, tracking down everything on the list will probably take hours. Even so, I can’t wait to jump in and start shopping.

  I’m pulled in many directions, but I try to focus on one item at a time. I start with a wall that says “Crystals,” one of the items on Taylor’s list, and choose a variety of shapes and sizes. I admire the way light reflects off them before dropping them in my basket. Rhinestones hop into my basket next, then it’s on to the bright pink wall labeled “Buttons.”

  I watch others as I shop. Some people gather their items briskly, while others seem to linger like I do. Studs and pearls beckon, and I toss them into my basket along with embroidered trim in a variety of colors and patterns. Taylor has “chains” on the list, so I grab gold and silver strands, both thin and thick. I imagine them on a dress collar or accenting something off the shoulder.

  The hours pass with me going from one aisle to another, switching my basket for a cart when it gets to be too heavy. It’s after three o’clock when Taylor texts to check up on me. I check off the final five items and text back that I’m just about done. When I head out the doors, arms loaded with bags, my legs ache. But it’s the best ache I’ve had in a long time.

  When I arrive at the office on Thursday, my first day back with Laura, I’m feeling super accomplished. Not only did I make it through my first days in a new department, I also managed to impress my new boss. Spending the next two days with Laura will be the perfect end to my week.

  I step onto the seventh floor — all giddy and happy — but then I see Laura’s office. All the hard work I put into organizing her desk last week is totally invisible. Papers and scraps cover Laura’s table, and her coffee cup teeters on the edge.

  “Hey,” I say, hesitating at the door. “How can I help?”

  Laura’s head swings in my direction like she’s surprised to see me. “Oh, thank goodness you’re here!” she says. “This arrangement has not been working for me at all.”

  I’m flattered, but the dark circles under Laura’s eyes make me feel really bad for her.

  Laura smiles. “It’s my fault. I did too good a job convincing Stefan how competent I am when I had you full-time. Now that you’re gone for the first part of each week, it’s killer!”

  I want to help but have no idea which mess to tackle first. Laura scans the inspiration boards hanging in her office and stops at one with jackets. “Let’s start here,” she says.

  I step forward and study the board. Some of the jackets have sleeves, and some are vests. Some are form fitting, others looser. I look for some kind of theme that screams Stefan Meyers but come up short. Just then, the assignment I did for Taylor on my second day pops into my head.

  “Are you looking for a way to pull them all together? Some kind of signature design that runs through all the pieces?” I ask.

  “Exactly,” Laura says. “This is part of the art deco addition Stefan wants to include in Fashion Week. He wants a few ideas that can be interwoven within this jacket line. Does that make sense?”

  This is exactly what I had to do for Taylor! I totally have this.

  “Completely!” I tell her.

  Laura looks relieved. “I knew I could count on you. Do you have any questions?”

  I smile wide. “Nope. I’m good.”

  Laura bites her lip and flips through some sketches. “Just to make sure, I’m going to leave you with these boards and drawings. Scan them to get a feel for the jackets. Pay extra attention to the art deco designs. Stefan wants them paired with the dresses you’ve been working on for Taylor. Use this sketchpad for your finished designs.”

  I take the boards, sketches, and Laura’s sketchpad and carry them to my desk. Laura definitely looks less tense than when I first walked in. I pile the designs around me and start looking through them. There are embroidered collars, embellished sleeves, and intricately stitched lapels. There are so many options, my eyes start to swim.

  After a while, each one starts to look the same, and I put them aside. Laura only gave me these in case I didn’t know what I was doing, I reason. But I already do. Taylor loved my ideas. They’ll be perfect for Laura too.

  I look through my own sketchpad for the rough designs I did for Taylor and rip out the pages so they’re easier to copy. I imagine the look of surprise on Laura’s face when she sees how quickly I can produce what she wants.

  I compare the drawings for Laura with those I did for Taylor. The dresses and jackets will click perfectly. Same beaded design, same fringe. If the pattern worked for Taylor, Laura is bound to love it too.

  I glance at all the boards and sketches Laura left for me and feel relieved that I won’t have to finish looking through them. Imagine how long that would take! And why bother when I’m able to recreate the same design? That was some quick thinking, I tell myself. I copy the patterns, and in an hour, I’m done!

  “How’s it going?” Laura asks, sticking her head out of her office.

  “Done!” I say, beaming.

  Laura looks at her watch. “Really? I thought this would take the whole morning.” She seems worried.

  “Well, I had a clear vision,” I say, but it sounds kind of lame and rehearsed. Maybe once Laura sees what I did, she won’t be concerned anymore.

  “Let’s see what you came up with,” Laura says. She picks up the drawings I did, and I study her unsmiling face as she flips through them. “You had time to look through the jacket designs?” she asks, motioning to the books and boards she gave me earlier.

  A pit forms in my stomach. She doesn’t like what I did at all. “I looked through some of them,” I say quietly.

  Laura sighs and shakes her head. “I’ll be right back,” she says, walking into her office.

  What did I do wrong? Taylor had said I had a “good eye.” I scan my drawings again. Maybe I missed an important detail? Nope. They look just like the sketches I did for Taylor.

  Laura emerges from her office holding drawings. “These are the designs you did for Taylor, right?” she says, placing the drawings on my desk.

  I look through them. “Yes.”

  “Chloe, I never pegged you as one to take the easy way out. What happened?”

  My head is swimming. What is she talking about? Who took the easy way out? “I — I don’t understand.”

  Laura stares at me. Disappointment is all over her face. She has never looked at me that way before. “Why do you think I gave you all those things to look at?”

  “To get ideas,” I whisper.

  Laura nods. “Exactly. If I wanted you to copy what you did for Taylor, why would I do that?”

  My eyes tear up. I put the drawings I did for Laura and Taylor side-by-side. They’re rip-offs of my own work. I look down at the floor.

  “If you were confused, you should have asked what I wanted,” Laura tells me. Her voice is soft, but firm. “You should have looked at what I gave you.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

  Laura looks skeptical. “Really?”

  I shrug. I don’t know. Maybe I just wanted to get the work done quickly and impress her. But I don’t want to say that. How would it look if I admitted to taking the easy way out? Besides, that’s not what I did, is it? I was just trying to be efficient. Why waste time looking through dozens of designs if I knew what she wanted?

  I feel Laura’s eyes on me, but I don’t want to lift my head. I dig th
e toe of my sandal into the carpet.

  “Maybe working in two departments is too much for you,” Laura finally says. “I really need your help here, but not like this. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? I need to talk to Stefan. I’m not sure this is going to work. Maybe we’re better off moving you out of my department.”

  Moving me out of her department? I think, panicked. Talking to Stefan? “I said I was sorry!” I say, too loud and snippy. Suddenly, I feel like a kid who’s about to throw a tantrum.

  Laura puts her hand on my shoulder. “I know. But I need to think about what’s best for the department and what’s best for Stefan Meyer. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Then she walks away.

  I debate going back to my dorm, but I know I’ll only replay the last hour over and over in my head. Instead, I decide to hit the pavement. Usually, the city noise makes clearing my head easy, but not today. I really screwed up. And now it might cost me my spot with Laura. I shake my head. I was so desperate to prove I could do everything, and now it seems like I’ve done the exact opposite.

  My stomach grumbles, but I can’t bring myself to eat. I wander the streets looking at everyone around me. A woman wearing a printed headscarf and a gold necklace double-wrapped around her neck leans against a building to chat on her cell phone. A breeze rustles her long skirt. I search for a bench so I can sit and sketch her, but there’s none around. I settle for closing my eyes and holding the image for later.

  The more I walk, the more I see outfits begging to be drawn. When I spot a cafe with outdoor tables, I order a drink, pull out my pad, and sit down. I focus on a teenage girl waiting for the bus. Her long bangs fall over one eye as she plays with the fringe on her crop top. I use my pencils to outline the top, then add her high-waist shorts. She cranes her neck, and the long, heart-shaped pendant she’s wearing around her neck moves with her. She shifts her feet impatiently, and I add flat sandals to my drawing.

  The bus finally comes, and the girl disappears. The knot in my stomach has lessened, but I still need to talk to someone. I put my sketchpad away, grab my drink, and let my feet lead me. Soon, I’m standing in front of Liesel McKay’s store. She’s a former Design Diva winner, and we bonded when she was my mentor during my competition.

  I step into the store, and the calm I was starting to feel disappears the moment I see Liesel. She takes one look at me and changes the store’s sign to CLOSED.

  “Spill,” she says.

  A few minutes later, we’re seated near the dressing rooms, and I’m doing just that.

  “Laura said she wanted a few design themes that could be integrated with the jackets for Stefan’s art deco line. I did the same thing for Taylor, only with dresses. Laura gave me designs to reference, but there were so many. I figured I knew what I was doing and just copied the same designs I did for Taylor,” I say, voice breaking. “And now Laura’s not sure she wants to keep working with me. She said she needs to talk to Stefan.”

  Liesel pats my hand. “I know it feels like it, but even if it comes down to that, it’s not the end of the world,” she says. “You’ll still be able to work with Taylor, right?”

  “I guess,” I mutter.

  Liesel smiles. “Then maybe that’s the best solution. You’ll be able to focus on one department.”

  “But I don’t want to stop working with Laura. Especially like this. I messed up, right?” I ask. I busy myself examining my coffee lid so I don’t have to look Liesel in the eyes. I wait for her to tell me Laura overreacted, and that my instincts were spot on. I want her to say I was only being efficient.

  Instead, Liesel says, “A little. But we all have. And do. The key is to understand your mistake and learn from it.”

  I sigh. “I guess I just wanted to come across as an expert, you know? Show everyone I belong? I figured I’d get this assignment done in a flash and impress her.”

  Liesel nods. “I think you’ve proved that already. Didn’t Laura show her faith in you by praising your pockets in front of Stefan? You shouldn’t feel like you need to prove yourself every second.”

  I look up from my drink. “I just don’t like asking questions about everything —”

  Liesel cuts me off. “Asking for help or more explanation when you don’t understand something is a sign of maturity. It shows that you’re conscientious. It’s better to ask too many questions and do the project right than to not ask enough and do double the work later.”

  I nod. I get what Liesel is saying, but… what Laura said about me cutting corners still nags at my brain. “Laura thinks I took the easy way out,” I say quietly.

  Liesel cocks her head. “Did you?”

  I shrug. “Maybe? I thought of all the projects Laura had and how I could help her. I figured if I got this done quickly, I could do more for her. Plus, if I asked her if what I was doing was okay, she might say it wasn’t, and then the assignment would take forever, and…” My voice trails off.

  Liesel sighs. “Look, hon. I know you’re not one to shirk responsibility. And from what you’ve said about Laura, she knows you’re a hard worker. But ultimately, it’s her decision — and Stefan’s. It’s out of your hands. Go back to your room. Think up some killer ideas. And no matter what tomorrow brings, you’ll start fresh. Deal?”

  I nod, my eyes getting teary again.

  Liesel hands me a tissue. “None of that. Tomorrow will be a better day.” She ducks behind the cash register and rummages through a jewelry box, eventually pulling out an antique-looking gold chain with a sun pendant at the end. “Here,” she says, handing it to me. “It’s a reminder that things can always get brighter.”

  “Thank you,” I say, putting it on. I give Liesel a hug and head back to my dorm. Time to figure out how to make tomorrow brighter.

  Friday morning, I’m up early. I slip on black shorts, a white lace top, and layers of pearl necklaces, then head to work.

  After leaving Liesel’s yesterday, I spent the remainder of the day brainstorming and sketching. I tried out one idea after another. Finally, something clicked. I can’t wait to share my drawings with Laura. I just hope it’s enough to convince her to let me stay.

  When I arrive at work at eight o’clock, I walk tentatively into Laura’s office. “Hi,” I say. “I brought a peace offering.” I place a caramel macchiato on her desk.

  Laura smiles. “Thanks,” she says, taking a sip.

  I look down nervously. “About yesterday… I’m really sorry. I was wrong. If I had a question, I should have asked. And you were right about me cutting corners…” I trail off and rub the beads on my necklace between my fingers, feeling nervous.

  Laura nods but doesn’t say anything.

  “Anyway,” I continue, “I’m really sorry. That’s all I wanted to say. I hope you’ll give me the chance to make it up to you and prove that I deserve to be here.”

  “Well, everyone makes mistakes,” Laura agrees. “I spoke to Stefan, and the fact is, I need the help here. I don’t have time to train a new intern, so we both agreed to give you another chance. After all, today is a new day, right?”

  I let out a breath and relax. “Right. Which is why I spent yesterday coming up with a plan.” I pull my sketchpad out of my bag and open it to my newest designs. I sketched a variety of collar designs that can be used to distinguish the jackets.

  Laura looks at my pages. Her smile grows wider with each drawing. “Yes!” she says. “This is perfect. Collars are a great way to differentiate dressy jackets. Not only can we make inspiration boards with the various types of jacket collars, we can also embellish them.”

  She takes a book of designs from her desk and hands it to me. “Here are some collars Stefan wants to use. See how you can incorporate them in your designs,” she says. “Remember the detailed designs you did for the pockets?”

  I nod. How could I forget? I’ve been living off Stefan’s
compliments on my pockets since that meeting.

  “I want designs that detailed for the collars,” Laura continues. “After you and I talk about them, I’ll have you create prototypes for them. Remember, those are mini- versions of a design? Big enough to fit onto the boards. Then, Taylor and I will discuss how to incorporate them into the line to complement her dresses. Sound good?”

  “Got it,” I say. This time, there will be no cutting corners.

  At my desk, I pore over the pages of Stefan’s designs. Then, I work on sketching a variety of collars. I envision dresses printed with signature art deco geometric patterns, accented by solid jackets with cool collars.

  I sketch a shawl collar with rounded lapels and think about how different materials can set it apart. Would it look best in silk or velvet? I sketch other samples, including a notched collar, which can give the illusion of a slender silhouette. A fichu lace collar could soften a piece. I add embellishments to the designs as well. Adding pearls or beading on the edges can spice up a jacket.

  “I ordered Chinese,” Laura says, suddenly appearing beside me.

  I glance up, surprised. I’d been so engrossed in my sketching that I didn’t even hear her approach. Nor did I realize it was past lunchtime.

  “These are really good,” Laura says, leaning over my shoulder to check out my sketches so far. “I love all the variations.”

  “Thanks,” I say proudly.

  “Let’s go to my office and discuss the prototypes.” She pauses and puts her hand on my shoulder. “You’re on your way to redeeming yourself.”

  I beam. I feel good about today’s work, but it’s even better hearing Laura’s compliment.

  Saturday morning, I wake up to banging. At least it sounds like banging in my half-asleep state. When I open my eyes, the bedroom is empty, but I hear voices coming from the common area. Why is everyone up so early on a weekend? I wonder groggily.