Project Reality

I love fashion. I love clothes and shoes and accessories. I especially love unique, intriguing, innovative fashion, and I love the idea of becoming a fashion designer.

Because of my love for fashion, I am a big fan of the show "Project Runway". This show is attractive to me because it shows so many sides of fashion....and it makes me ponder what my collection would be, if I were up on that runway.

Of course, when I think of being a fashion designer, I'm always dressed in Oscar de la Renta or Chanel or some astonishing couture outfit, dashing around a room with beautiful models and my breathtaking designs being put on. I know how to do any type of sewing-related skill flawlessly, and my comments are full of insight into the intricacies of each garment.

Once I realize that I am not a famous designer, I remember a few key facts:
1. I have never even touched a piece of bona fide couture, let alone worn it.
2. My designs, if you can call them that, are tepid and slightly unoriginal; certainly not impressive compared to the likes of the designers of "Project Runway".
3. I have no idea how to sew.

These three facts have led me to the conclusion that I have A LOT of work to do before I've even got a shot at breaking into the fashion industry. Though it would be unimaginably fun to go from Paris to Milan to New York with my world famous dresses, it's highly unlikely. Fashion is a tough industry, and I honestly don't think I have what it takes. In the words of Heidi Klum, "You're either in or you're out." I'd have to say, I think I'm out.

I know, I know....the age-old "you can do anything you set your mind to" is supposed to kick in right about now, get me on my feet, and dust off my wallowing-in-defeat dirt. I know that it is true that trying your very hardest at something gives you a better chance of accomplishing it. But I don't think that just because I want to be a world famous fashion designer means I will be one. Even if I spend all my money on going to the Fashion Institute of Technology and spend every minute of my spare time in internships, I could very well just not make it.

And that is why, after two years of complete faith in the fact that I would one day be as well known as the aforementioned Oscar de la Renta or Chanel, I have realized that I will not.

But I am not wallowing. I am merely stating that after two years of dresses that cost more than my car, ocean view villas in far-off beaches, and rubbing elbows with the likes of the great Heidi floating around in my head, I've finally come to terms with the fact that this isn't going to happen. And I'm ok with that. After all, who really needs a $3000 pair of pants anyway?

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