Georgiana Garland Fashioning A Dream

By Victoria Hannah

Fashion student Georgiana Garland dreams of becoming a famous designer, winning Young Designer of the Year. Her only problem: so do her classmates. 

Sixteen year old Georgiana Garland is in her second year at The International Institute of Costume and Fashion Design in Auckland. She's had dreams of being a fashio

• Language: English
• Publisher: Victoria Hannah
• Release date: Jul 22, 2020
• ISBN: 9780648680284

Book preview

Georgiana Garland – Fashioning A Dream

by

Victoria Hannah

First published in Australia 2020 by Victoria Hannah.

Copyright © 2020 Victoria Hannah

The author asserts her moral rights in this work throughout the world without waiver. All rights reserved. This eBook belongs to the author and, as such, no part of it may be copied, reproduced or transmitted by any person or entity (including Google, Amazon or similar organisations), in any form whatsoever (including via any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage or retrieval system) without the express prior written permission of the copyright holder.

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Georgiana Garland – Fashioning A Dream

by

Victoria Hannah

Chapter 1

La mer

Qu’on voit danser le long des golfes clairs

A des reflets d’argent

La mer

Des reflets changeants

Sous la pluie

La mer

La la la la la l...

GG!!

I looked up. Christabel and Debbie were waving their hands at me, bags on shoulders about to leave the studio, both laughing. I unplugged my iPod and pushed down the layers of deep rose silk tulle that had started weaving up around me and the sewing machine.

Georgiana, don’t you ever get sick of that song? laughed Debbie. I bet you sing it all the time at home. Doesn’t your Mum get fed up?

I smiled and held up the multi layers of gathered tulle. Sorry, in my own little world here, trying to get this skirt finished so I can pin it on the bodice. It has to be ready for fittings tomorrow at ten. Anyhow, Mum plays ‘La Mer’ all the time. Trouble is, I only know a few of the words, I wish I’d kept up my French, all I know is it’s a beautiful song about the sea.

She laughed as both she and Christabel moved around the cutting table to the mannequin beside me. Hmm, you’ll have to study it again if you want to work in Paris one day.

Ooooh is this the bodice, GG? Christabel asked, looking at the acid lime silk dupion bodice and tracing her fingertips over the intricately worked rose glass and dark green pearlised beads. This is divine, what beautiful work, you are such a talented girl.

Thanks Chris, but your patterns make life so easy for me, I replied. I wish I could do what you do. You’re the talent around here.

That’s not true.

It is! Everyone around here knows it’s the patternmaker who makes things work. I don’t want to be a machinist all my life.

Christabel folded her arms around the mannequin. Don’t do that to yourself, GG. This is gorgeous. See this here,’ she pointed to the beadwork, ‘this has nothing to do with my patternmaking. This is incredible! She gave the mannequin a squeeze, then looked me straight in the eye. What’s making you so downhearted today?

I really just want to get into patterns, but Carolynne won’t be happy if she thinks I want to move on. She’s given me such an opportunity and I really appreciate it, it’s so difficult to get great jobs like this straight from design college.

Oh for goodness sakes, GG, she would be so happy for you to start doing a bit of pattern work. Christabel turned to Debbie.

I totally agree, Georgiana, Debbie said.

Christabel faced me again. I’ll help you if I am able while I’m here. It depends on how busy I am with my other clients. Talk to her later tomorrow, it’ll show initiative, that you’re enthusiastic and passionate about your career. I can see you in, maybe ten years or so, you’ll be what.. twenty six years old then? You’ll be Georgiana Garland, designer to the famous, walking along La Seine singing ‘La Mer’ with a lovely man on your arm, she grabbed Debbie’s arm and strode with her along the design room floor laughing, and a divine little salon in a quaint area of Paris.

I couldn’t help but laugh at them. Go home the pair of you and let me do my work, you are both crazy. My mobile interrupted the scene. I answered hurriedly, waving to Christabel and Debbie as they left. Even her ringtone is French. Debbie called out as they went out the door laughing and shaking their heads.

Hey George, Kat said on the other end of the line, how’s things, can we catch up soon, like tonight, half an hour?

Hi Kat, I’m great but still at work, have fittings tomorrow morning so a bit rushed at present.

No you have to meet me now, didn’t you see the email from college? It’s a big deal, c’mon, we have to go out and chat, Kat insisted.

No, I can’t tonight – Mum is expecting me home soon. What’s it about, I haven’t had one moment’s peace today to check my emails.

No George, please, we have to meet now. You know they were talking about our assignment at college for the end of year presentation? She was rattling on so fast, I didn’t get a chance to answer her. Well, we each have to submit designs for Day, Resort, Formal and Film or Costume, and out of those designs we have to choose how we would like to dress our favourite celebrity. Kat took a quick breath then continued. Here, let me read a bit about it to you...the board are going to choose one design from each student, and we then have to do the pattern, costing and make the garment up using a model who represents as close as possible to our fav celebrity. George that’s so cool, what do you think? You’ve been bleating on about wanting to have more responsibility and do more patterns, this is a perfect opportunity to present yourself. I’d love to do Resort and I know you cannot keep your hands off Evening. What do you think? Kat’s voice was escalating in my ear.

Okay, Okay, Kat give me twenty, I absolutely have to get this skirt ready. Meet you around the corner at that cool café we both like in Vulcan Lane. I have to phone Mum to let her know I’ll be a bit late, but I simply can’t stay long, okay Kat?

Sure, sure, okay, okay George. See you soon. She hung up.

I put my phone down and packed my iPod away. With Debbie and Christabel gone, the studio was empty apart from Carolynne in her office. This was my favourite time of day. No Debbie using the cutting machine making whirring sounds so loud they vibrated the entire table and interrupted everyone’s focus. Carolynne’s fat tabby cat Marmaduke loved it, sitting on the edge of the table, purring while falling asleep with the vibrations. But I hated it. This time of day I didn’t need my iPod, and could focus to my heart’s content.

Carolynne Deveraux’s studio was on the first level above her boutique on trendy High Street in central Auckland City and everyday at this time the daily peak hour drone of cars escaping the city drifted up to serenade me as I continued sewing. Fumes from the cars banking up waiting to exit the narrow street wafted through the pale cream diaphanous curtains billowing right beside me. They reminded me of silk chiffon dresses blowing in the breeze. One day I’ll be in Paris, in the Trocadero Gardens with the Eiffel Tower in the background, a wind machine playing with my own dresses worn by a model as stunning as my designs. This dress is just the start.

I started pinning the skirt on the mannequin, under the bodice so it looked like a completed dress ready for photographing. Only once the dress was captured as an image would Carolynne be able to assess if the design worked or not and a quiet assessment of how it was going to look on the client. I was almost finished when my hair got caught around some beadwork on the bodice.

My goodness, Georgiana! came Carolynne’s voice, that is going to be absolutely stunning on Martina, she will be ecstatic!

Still trying to free myself, I looked over my arm to see my boss weaving her way from her glass-walled office and around the cutting table with Marmaduke following her along the edge.

Carolynne was dressed in a pair of chocolate loose rayon pants worn under a knee length jade and shell pink, abstract print voile shirt which had deep side slits. Her sleeves were rolled up. She always exuded the glamorous ex-model she once was. Tall, with wavy shoulder length, highlighted, ash coloured hair, and hazel eyes, she commanded attention wherever she went.

Marmaduke’s leash was draped over her left shoulder and in her arms was a selection of cut outs from old fashion magazines, ready to sort through before pinning onto one of the many mood boards around the studio walls. Different colours and styles for the coming seasons were always displayed alongside Carolynne’s invaluable sketches and swatches of coloured wool or embroidery thread interwoven amongst them stuck in their respective themes. Her car keys also jingled in one hand. Do you honestly think so Carolynne? I replied nervously, finally untangling myself. I found it all a bit nerve wracking. It’s so difficult gathering up all that tulle, I was worrying all the time if the thread was going to break on me and I’d be sitting amid fifty plus metres of tulle and me sobbing in the middle.

She laughed. Believe me that is nothing to the much bigger disasters you’re likely to have later on in your career Georgiana, but you will forget about the pain when you see a gown on a happy client. It is worth every bit of anguish we put ourselves through. Now go home young lady, it’s getting late.

I re-tied my ponytail then continued arranging the tulle so it sat evenly under the bodice. Almost done, I’ll just finish hand tacking it together then it’s ready. I’m just off to meet my friend Kat from college, actually. She was telling me about our new assignment for our end of year presentation. It sounds really exciting but I am a little worried about my patternmaking because I haven’t done a lot yet.

Georgiana, Carolynne put down her cut outs and started playing with the tulle at the back of the mannequin, You have been here what… eleven months? looking at me as I nodded my head in agreement, she continued, I know you’re very enthusiastic about moving ahead and furthering your career so would you like to have a chat after the excesses of this week ease off? How about towards the end of next week, we can start to look at what you might like to do in the immediate future and see if it suits you and us here in the studio. Both Christabel and Debbie have mentioned how talented you are and I can see in your design sketches you have shown me, you definitely have flair in that department. I know you don’t want to be a machinist forever Georgiana, that is a completely natural progression to want to move on.

I could have leapt up and hugged her, I was nearly in tears. Really, are you serious. Really, do you mean it, I can start to do a little pattern work? Oh wow! It was all I could say.

She laughed, dropped the tulle then leaned against the cutting table patting Marmaduke as he rubbed his head against her arm. Though you do have to be careful not to take on too much new work all at once, Georgiana. How much time do you spend volunteering with the juniors at college?

Only on Thursday evenings, that’s why I always hurry out of work a little early so I can… I stopped as Carolynne put her hand up.

Yes, I realise that, Georgiana, that is not a problem at all and it’s very nice of you to help the young ones, but just be careful later on in the year because it will start to eat into your valuable study time. I know you love it, plus I do hear from my colleagues that the young students adore you.

I had people help me a lot when I was in the junior design class, plus they’re great kids, I really like them. They don’t all come from happy homes, Carolynne, it’s sad, but I think I’ve managed to help some of them with their sewing and a little bit about basic patternmaking. I said holding my thumb and index finger up about five millimetres away from each other. Even their teacher told me it has helped give them some encouragement, plus it has really helped me with my patterns.

Carolynne smiled. I’m sure it has. Now go and meet your friend young lady and we will chat later. Do not get too excited yet, Georgiana. You have a long and very hard road ahead of you if you choose to work as a Senior Designer or if you want to own your own label. But this industry is never boring. I am sure though, you do have the bones for it.

Oh thank you, Carolynne. You won’t regret it.

Hmm, I hope not, Georgiana. I do want to say to you that you must be careful not to offend people with your occasional outspoken opinions. You are rather impetuous at times and that is not a bad thing in fashion but you must learn to be a little diplomatic with clients especially, otherwise you’re going to get into a lot of hot water.

Sometimes the clients don’t even know what they want, I said as I finished smoothing the tulle over the skirt lining. Then they decide on a design that’s completely inappropriate for them and won’t listen to you, Carolynne. I don’t know how you keep calm.

See how upset you are becoming just talking to me about that now? Take a deep breath before you speak. It’s all down to experience and knowing when to ‘suggest’ another look if the one they choose is completely wrong for them. If it is really not a look, or a client, you want to be associated with, then pull the plug. But know how to do it with decorum. Do not intentionally be rude, especially in my salon and always try and stay calm even if the client is extremely rude to you. Believe me, you will have plenty of experience at that.

Okay Phew! Thanks for the advice, Carolynne. I promise to to be more professional in future. I snatched up my bag. Night.

Night, Georgiana, see you in the morning.

I ran down the stairs and past all the exclusive designer boutiques, cafés and hotels between the studio and coffee shop.

Chapter 2

Loud conversations from the wine bars and cafés in Vulcan Lane drifted towards me as I turned the corner. A very trendy and vibrant laneway, Vulcan Lane was set between Queen and High Streets with palm trees centrally planted along it and a mix of old and new architecture, housing exclusive boutiques, jewellers and of course the cafés and bars.

A third of the way down, Indigo Moon was in a heritage building, its deeply curved double window frontage leading to a recessed dark wood-framed doorway, through into a maze of tables and lounge suites – a magnet for stressed out lawyers and designers after six o’clock. Even though it was late March and the evenings were starting to close in, all the tables outside with their diffused lanterns were full. Inside, the aging gold wall lamps cast their soft halos against the busy deep plum and cream flocked velvet wallpaper, giving the interior a warm comforting feeling in which to relax.

I looked around for Kat but all I could see was a sea of people in black, charcoal and one or two pale grey suits, all standing around the bar enjoying lively discussions. As I walked into the noisy atmosphere, at a table to my right, was a woman wearing a wonderful turquoise and apricot dress with a voluminous 50s style skirt, a fab bright orange wrap draped over the back of her chair. She was chatting and laughing with two other women, one dressed in a black ankle length tight knit skirt with a short bright pink fluffy wool jacket, and the other was wearing slim black pants with a dark olive print cheongsam. The clothes were just stunning and the three women stood out among the darkness of the suits, but I had to smile to myself when I saw three pairs of bare feet and the same amount of the highest heels all sitting lopsided by their owners under the table. As I raised my eyes to their faces I recognised a PR agent and two very well known designers, one being Kat’s boss, Sarah Zhou.

George! Kat called out to me. She was crammed into a corner table on the opposite side of the café by the front window, sitting on one of the deeply padded half circle seats, shoes off and her feet curled up underneath her. She angrily waved at me to hurry over, tapping at her watch as I waved to her.

I pushed my way around the tightly packed tables, nearly tripping over someone’s laptop bag strap in my rush.

A mug of my favourite Belgian hot chocolate was waiting for me on the table, along with a delicious-looking pineapple cake cut in half for devouring. Kat’s half was already part-eaten. I didn’t mind, I was starving too.

Oh my god, what kept you! Kat snapped at me. Hurry up and sit down, otherwise Sarah will see you and come over to chat. She is dying to know how you are, blah blah blah.

In other words, I sat down on the chair opposite her, she wants to know what Carolynne is doing for next season, as if I am going to open my mouth. I don’t think so, I said to her firmly. C’mon let’s look at this assignment.

You didn’t tell me why you were so long, I thought you were in a hurry, you said you’d only be twenty minutes. Kat picked up her fork and stabbed the pineapple cake with a huff.

Well, Carolynne was having a word with me as I left, asking if I would like a chat later on about my future and furthering my patternmaking, I said proudly, plus I had to finish something for tomorrow.

Oh really? That sounds exciting! But not as exciting as this. Take a look! She searched through her online college files for me. Hold on, I’ve forgotten where I filed it.

As I waited, I took a sip of my hot chocolate. It was lukewarm, so I drank it in one go, then got stuck into the pineapple cake, it hardly touched the sides of my stomach as it went down.

Kat, I said quietly, my mouth still full of cake, but she didn’t acknowledge me. Kat! I said again, louder but still whispering.

Kat turned around abruptly. What, why are you whispering?

Kat, do you think I’m impetuous?

Impetchoos? What does that mean? She turned from her laptop screen to face me then replied frowning. If you mean like stubborn and high and mighty? Well, yeah you are a bit. She turned to face her screen again, ignoring me.

Impetuous! I corrected her. Carolynne said I am rather impetuous and have to learn to be more diplomatic, although she’s really happy with my work. I looked down at my uneven nails, I had to stop chewing them so I could have long nails like the models in the magazine shoots.

Well you are a bit over the top at times, even that vile Olivia makes faces and remarks behind your back. You know that fat friend of hers in class… Annie or Ally or whatever? Kat asked but didn’t give me time to answer. Well, her snotty mother says you only got the job at Carolynne Devereaux because of who your parents are. She turned her screen around so I could look at the college information she wanted me to read. And you are a know-all sometimes. If you could just stop bleating on about how much better you are and…

I cut in, I do not, Kat. I don’t say anything of the sort, her name is Abby by the way and I don’t know her mother, and, and, I fired back, I’m not rude, I... like to help out if…

It doesn’t come out of your mouth like that, George. You’re so into your own world, you speak without thinking sometimes. We’ve all got feelings, you know.

I stared at her screen for a few seconds before answering. Really? I don’t think I’m like that at all. People go on about my parents all the time, and put them on some sort of pedestal. I haven’t seen my father for years and my Mum left modelling years ago, but I still feel as though I have to live up to something I know nothing about. I hung my head, tired of feeling this way yet again. "I constantly have to defend myself to others. Maybe it makes me sound snappy sometimes, I don’t know, I certainly don’t mean it to be. But this is only my second year at design college so I’m still learning like everyone else. Anyhow, you’ve got a short temper as well and you’re never on time for class."

Kat shrugged. You asked me my opinion and I gave it, don’t snap back at me. Kat shook her head and pointed to her screen to show me the assignment information. Look, we all have our gremlins we have to deal them. You know what yours are now, don’t you? She turned her face straight into mine and asked, so what are you working on that is so special for tomorrow?

It’s just a toile that Carolynne wants to test out for a new client, I said not sounding as convincing as I had hoped.

What! exclaimed Kat with disbelief. You never stay back late for toiles, what are you working on, tell me, can I come up now and have a quick look?

Kat, you work for a rival designer, what do you think Carolynne would say if I discussed her client’s designs. I would be in huge trouble, now shut it, and let’s look at the assignment. Okay?

Okay, but I’m your friend, you can give me a hint, Kat said trying again. It will be absolutely fabulous, knowing your stuff. Sarah knows Carolynne is doing something special for somebody important. She thinks it’s Emma Harrington, that snotty actress, or the TV presenter, Martina Steiner, especially since she is a regular client of yours.

Okay, see you later, I said starting to pick up my bag. Sarah Zhou had her own very successful label and I knew she probably wouldn’t be interested in another designer’s range, not even Carolynne Deveraux. Kat was the nosey one, always wanting to know what new designs Carolynne was working on for her prominent clients. But Carolynne had