Mar. 15th, 2013 04:44 pm
(no subject)
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fox_confessorSo I was bored. Bored bored bored bored. So very bored. It's Friday and all the bosses are gone leaving me as the senior person in charge bored. And whinged about it maybe a little bit to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kiltsandlollies because whinging about it at work would have been unprofessional, and she challenge me to go write something, which is what I wanted to do in the first place but I didn't save my changes to my hp_bolder fic in my email draft (....and I really hope I saved them in the draft on my laptop), so I started something. Which is a thing I do that I wish I'd stop.
This wasn't new new though. It's I'll admit the best part of this was looking up fashion that could conceivable but not really but the designs. Unbeta'd! Unread!
In the beginning, the first challenge had felt like a walk in the park. Seven yards of plain muslin, a budget of twenty dollars, and three weeks to create whatever best represented their point of view as a designer--at home without anyone else watching. Harvey had gone coutour, hand dying the fabric with onion skins, bits of rust, and rose petals before working it into his own textile. The result had surprised him though he didn't show it as his gown came down the runway, merely smirking as if a win in his direction was a foregone conclusion.
Jessica Pearson--editor-in-chief of Haute magazine and the only voice Harvey even cared about--was, if not gushing, at least complimentary, more to his gown than anything else that had come down the runway, asking him questions on his technique and congratulating him on the risk he took.
If Harvey's look is haute couture, then what we have next is haute hippy. Tell us about your look, Mike.
Harvey leaned forward to look down the line to where the kid--Mike--stood grinning like he'd already won. He was the only other designer to manipulate his fabric to make it look different--better--than what it was. Harvey wasn't surprised that it had come down to the two of them but he had wanted to dominate, and looking back to his own gown, all he could see where the places he felt he over-designed in contrast to Mike's easy daytime look with its cool arashi shibori skirt and the top left natural with macrame detailing in the back.
In anybody else's hands, this could have looked like a craft project, and yet you make it look very editorial.
Harvey agreed. Though he'd never say it out loud, it was an amazing look and Harvey was already reordering who he thought his competition was. He was still considering it when Heidi gave them their suprise, and honestly they should have all seen it coming.
We want you to create a second look inspired by the first. But not your first.
The news came at the end of a very long day, and Harvey found himself suddenly unconcerned about winning--though he knew that would be temporary--but longing for something he never thought he would: his nine-to-five job in the mail room at a law firm that would be (he confirmed with a surrepticious glance at his wrist) ending right about now. He'd be on his way home to his tiny walk-up in Alphabet City, the closest he could afford to mid-town, where he could sit quietly to sketch or sew with a glass of wine and some take away.
Not that he actually wanted to leave the show or give up this opportunity. It's just...
He turned and look at the designer next to him, mentally putting air quotes around the word designer, and eyed his model. Tom Keller had made what Harvey imagined probably seemed like a really great idea if he'd been high. It was essentially a potato sack, managing to make a size four model look ill shaped. There was no design to it, no color, no interest--absolutely nothing to inspire.
Harvey rolled his eyes and huffed, straightening up as the judges and half the production crew laughed at him. He immediately shook it off, schooling his features. He wanted to enjoy this, learn what he could, and finally make a name for himself. He called up the image of his apartment again, with its kitchen that was essentially a hot plate and a sink, and his shower where he had to crouch down to wash beneath a spray of tepid water. This was his chance and he would do what he came for. He would win.
We'll see you all on the runway where someone will win and someone will go home. Bye!
Harvey's first design
Mike's first design
Tom's first design
Dana's first design
22 minutes and this day is finally over. Manicure tonight, then groceries, and then I think I want a hot dog for dinner. I suspect I'll come to regret that decision. When we were kids, we'd get the best hot dogs from Orange Julius, of all places, with seasoned fries. It was really awesome and I want that tonight, mostly because I spent at least part of the morning trying to find some place interesting to visit when I go stay with my sister in Ohio in May. I came away with a desire for hot dogs, a nostalgia for the Sea World that is no more, and an appreciation for what my current city offers: a really wonderful devotion to the slow food movement, tons of yoga studios, and sunshine.
kiltsandlollies because whinging about it at work would have been unprofessional, and she challenge me to go write something, which is what I wanted to do in the first place but I didn't save my changes to my hp_bolder fic in my email draft (....and I really hope I saved them in the draft on my laptop), so I started something. Which is a thing I do that I wish I'd stop.This wasn't new new though. It's I'll admit the best part of this was looking up fashion that could conceivable but not really but the designs. Unbeta'd! Unread!
In the beginning, the first challenge had felt like a walk in the park. Seven yards of plain muslin, a budget of twenty dollars, and three weeks to create whatever best represented their point of view as a designer--at home without anyone else watching. Harvey had gone coutour, hand dying the fabric with onion skins, bits of rust, and rose petals before working it into his own textile. The result had surprised him though he didn't show it as his gown came down the runway, merely smirking as if a win in his direction was a foregone conclusion.
Jessica Pearson--editor-in-chief of Haute magazine and the only voice Harvey even cared about--was, if not gushing, at least complimentary, more to his gown than anything else that had come down the runway, asking him questions on his technique and congratulating him on the risk he took.
If Harvey's look is haute couture, then what we have next is haute hippy. Tell us about your look, Mike.
Harvey leaned forward to look down the line to where the kid--Mike--stood grinning like he'd already won. He was the only other designer to manipulate his fabric to make it look different--better--than what it was. Harvey wasn't surprised that it had come down to the two of them but he had wanted to dominate, and looking back to his own gown, all he could see where the places he felt he over-designed in contrast to Mike's easy daytime look with its cool arashi shibori skirt and the top left natural with macrame detailing in the back.
In anybody else's hands, this could have looked like a craft project, and yet you make it look very editorial.
Harvey agreed. Though he'd never say it out loud, it was an amazing look and Harvey was already reordering who he thought his competition was. He was still considering it when Heidi gave them their suprise, and honestly they should have all seen it coming.
We want you to create a second look inspired by the first. But not your first.
The news came at the end of a very long day, and Harvey found himself suddenly unconcerned about winning--though he knew that would be temporary--but longing for something he never thought he would: his nine-to-five job in the mail room at a law firm that would be (he confirmed with a surrepticious glance at his wrist) ending right about now. He'd be on his way home to his tiny walk-up in Alphabet City, the closest he could afford to mid-town, where he could sit quietly to sketch or sew with a glass of wine and some take away.
Not that he actually wanted to leave the show or give up this opportunity. It's just...
He turned and look at the designer next to him, mentally putting air quotes around the word designer, and eyed his model. Tom Keller had made what Harvey imagined probably seemed like a really great idea if he'd been high. It was essentially a potato sack, managing to make a size four model look ill shaped. There was no design to it, no color, no interest--absolutely nothing to inspire.
Harvey rolled his eyes and huffed, straightening up as the judges and half the production crew laughed at him. He immediately shook it off, schooling his features. He wanted to enjoy this, learn what he could, and finally make a name for himself. He called up the image of his apartment again, with its kitchen that was essentially a hot plate and a sink, and his shower where he had to crouch down to wash beneath a spray of tepid water. This was his chance and he would do what he came for. He would win.
We'll see you all on the runway where someone will win and someone will go home. Bye!
Harvey's first design
Mike's first design
Tom's first design
Dana's first design
22 minutes and this day is finally over. Manicure tonight, then groceries, and then I think I want a hot dog for dinner. I suspect I'll come to regret that decision. When we were kids, we'd get the best hot dogs from Orange Julius, of all places, with seasoned fries. It was really awesome and I want that tonight, mostly because I spent at least part of the morning trying to find some place interesting to visit when I go stay with my sister in Ohio in May. I came away with a desire for hot dogs, a nostalgia for the Sea World that is no more, and an appreciation for what my current city offers: a really wonderful devotion to the slow food movement, tons of yoga studios, and sunshine.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
*obligatory actual model icon* :D
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
i love that you included photos of their designs as well!
no subject
no subject
Not to be an enabler but this is one of my top two favorite Mike/Harvey (http://www.tasteofpoison.inkubation.net/viewstory.php?sid=504) but it's not on AO3 so I thought I'd share in case you hadn't run across it before and it's something that appeals. Arsenic does h/c really really well.
no subject
and oh, yes, i'm familiar with arsenic's work (she used to write in bandom); i was surprised when i saw she'd written suits fic (i so rarely see familiar names). i'm pretty sure i've read that one before, but i'm having a hard time recalling the details, so clearly it's time for a RE-READ. :D
no subject