Stepping into Fashion- I am a Rick Owens Model

The pressure in the room was almost tangible.  It was only a rehearsal but as we waited at the top of those metal stairs our hearts beat with a strength and rhythm that would soon be echoed in our movements.  My hands were shaking as I went over all the changes that were just made.  It was so quiet, and the time seemed to pass so slowly.  My concentration was broken as the stage manager started a conversation with someone over his walkie talkie- “ these are the real models…..they ARE the models….this IS the show” It was laughable, but at that moment, the weight of the performance hit once again.

 If even someone who had watched us the whole day didn’t realize what was happening, how much more “off guard” would everybody else be?

I thought about the line we were presenting and the name of our collective team,  “Vicious” and I let the weight, strength and power of my character come out in my body as I heard the beat drop. 

It was the first full rehearsal for the man who had conceived this whole show.  I descended stairs and marched out into the space with a somewhat reserved intensity, as is the case in a rehearsal the night before a show.  The room that had been mostly empty throughout the day was now filled with the cast and crew that would help pull off this performance.  Our presentation was not without mess-ups as we fumbled through anxiety and recent changes…if nothing else was present, we put our hearts on the stage.  The eleven minutes seemed to pass like the blink of an eye and then we were outside high fiving and congratulating each other for “making it.”  The support for and from each member of the newly formed team Vicious was felt in that moment.

Out came Rick.

He had a smile on his face and simply said “ that was beyond my wildest dreams.” I was touched by his expression and genuine appreciation of this dance that captivated me in the same way that it seemed to have captivated him.  I spoke with just a few people that watched, but the response seemed to be the same.  They were moved.  Moved to tears by what they said seemed to be a spiritual experience.  As an artist who is a Christian, I was moved and encouraged.  Somehow, through the “grit” and intensity, they seemed to see my heart.

It didn’t matter what expression I wore on my face because what they felt in the room was bigger.

There was a

Unity

Beauty

Strength

Power

Intensity

Love

That poured from our hearts as we stepped down those stairs and onto that runway….

And that was just rehearsal.

Thursday morning seemed even more surreal than …..anything.

We talked, we laughed, we practiced and we prayed.  We hoped that the work that we had put in over the last months would be reflected in our performance, but really it didn’t matter, because whether we felt ready or not, the show began.

For me, it was an opportunity, a chance to share my craft, which I have worked at for fourteen years, with the world. For whatever reason Rick and his team appreciated this dance that I love…this dance that is often relegated to college campuses, competitive shows, afterschool programs and people younger than myself. We were given a chance on this larger than life stage to make history, not just in fashion, but for this dance.  To showcase it as a dance with transformative and inspirational power.  We were seen and appreciated as artists, dancers and dare I say models.

We spent only four days in Paris, but the impact we made in that time will be lasting.  I couldn’t have properly prepared for the response as I prepared for this show. I anticipated what would take place, but this… this is something else. And as I view pictures and read articles it has caused me to not only reflect on that day, but also who I am and the process as a whole…..

I am a happily married mother of four. I am well educated and passionate.  I love people and live purposefully.  I am now a model, although some would say the contrary.  I was a part of an historic event and whether it was all good or all bad, it happened.  I am one of the faces of forty, described by some as obese, angry, not good enough, amazing, strong or powerful.  If I was nothing else, I was vicious.  A representation of a line of clothing that maybe was not meant to originally adorn my brown skin or post six-month baby delivery body, but it did. 

I have been at this dance, at this movement for a long time, and on that Thursday we made a statement.  I cant speak for the intention of Rick Owens, or Ricky as some of us called him, but I can speak for myself….maybe even some of the others that day.

I am not angry.  Some things make me angry, some things make me have to be aggressive, but I am not sure that “angry” has ever been used to describe me.

I am a step dancer.  I have been dancing, only step, for fourteen years. I was captivated and fell in love the first time that I saw the dance.  The power, strength, intensity, confidence and beauty in it moved me. I never pledged a sorority, rather I stepped at church.  Three of the women that stepped with me, I’ve been stepping with my whole career, one of them my sister, none of us angry, all of us performers.

There is controversy, there is a system, whether what we did moved the fashion industry and the talks on diversity forward or backward is up for debate, and really, just opinion.

I received a text from a colleague the day after my thirtieth birthday.  She asked if I would be interested in performing for a designer in Paris for Fashion Week, I told her that I was in.  We had what seemed like endless dialogue as I tried to get my questions answered and information about what would be expected. She told me to gather my team and show up for rehearsal.  We did.  I expressed my concern because of what I knew about fashion.  We are black, athletic builds, average height, natural hair, not too fashionable…steppers ….she told me to bring my team as we were and come. We did. 

We were not completely sure about what we were stepping into, but we came to share our art.

The “grit face” was not something I had worn before, but most of this experience was new to me.  As I learned about Ricky, his aesthetic and his vision, I was moved by the idea and honored to play a role in it.

Step for me isn’t just a representation of a group that I belong to, nor is it just a way that I make money.  Step is my creative outlet. My dance, my art of choice. I hold this dance close to my heart, it’s mine.  The physical expression of everything I love.  A manifestation of what I believe. Giving clues and an inclination of the God I believe in, because when you dance, you give a look into your true self and beliefs…..

I’m not sure that everyone felt what we did, or that it will be fully understood, but for me it was a moment to showcase more than clothes. A moment for us to display our passion and our love with the intensity that we have put into it.  To be Vicious in the presentation of our creative outlet in hopes that people would be moved and connect with it. Our hope was for those eleven minutes, to change the atmosphere in the room and the way that this dance is often viewed, I am left with the impression that we did just that. 

What do you think?

Birthing Possibility

I am sitting in the place between bitter and sweet.  With expectation and great anticipation I am preparing for my life to be swept up again by that “new baby scent” and sleepless nights.  In that same breath, I am not ready. 

I am not ready for this life to leave me and have to deal with the harshness of the world rather than the safety of the womb. 

I am not ready for the juggling of six schedules and personalities that need to be taken care of.

I am not ready for the redefining of my life. 

For six and a half years my life has been consumed with being pregnant and having a newborn. This will be my last.

My identity and abilities have been adjusted based on my varying physical and mental capacity.  I have put things off, scaled things back and given justified excuses for my lack of consistency.

The season I am entering is unchartered territory and long put off responsibility. 

My weight,

Fatigue,

Accomplishments,

Goals,

Pursuit of my passion

Are opening up once more.

I am entering a season of possibility and hope and I want to be ready.  Just as easy as one crutch leaves another can fill its space. Who I am and how I’ve been seen has been wrapped up in my building a family, who will I become after this season?

Will my dreams and passions manifest in the beauty and brightness that I dream them in?

Do I have what is takes to grace stages and heal lives?

There is a part of me that is ready. The part that says my fear is unfounded and I have been moving in the direction of my passions all along.

There is just something about sensing that it is your time…. 

That there is a window to step into your fullest purpose, 

A burst of energy to run towards your dreams,

A bubbling on the inside that must produce.

That is where I am.  I have been pregnant for a long time and now we will see what will be birthed. 

In my hands

He repeated it like a mantra “ but God is good.”  I was only on the elevator for thirty seconds, but in that time he repeated it several times as if he were trying to convince me, or himself, of the truth of his statement.  His partners father was dying of cancer he said, only a couple hours left.

I looked down at my hands and wondered what I could do.  What did I have in my hands, in my life, to offer this man that would bring any comfort or change?

I could pray….Put my faith to work and hope there would be a change.  Healing for his father or at least comfort for him.

We were together only a minute, but as we rode the elevator, then walked together before we went our separate ways, I was intrigued by his mantra and the emotions behind it.

It made me think of who I am and what I believe is possible.  What I have to offer the world and whether or not I would actually offer it fully.  What is my mantra? What do I repeat?

I suppose I have added to my resume, “healer.” In a way that’s what I’ve always been, or tried to walk in.

The physical healings that I’ve been a part of just an outpouring or representation of the emotional healing and change I want to be a part of in peoples lives.

The purposes of a person’s heart are deep waters, but one who has insight draws them out.” I want to be that “one.”

There is healing in my hands.

Power, love and fire in my hands.

Relationships to build with my hands.

This is what I have to offer. What I lay down to take up and be a part of God’s story. 

I want my journey to be marked by the use of what’s in my hands.  I want to be comfortable with my abilities, but also the process of surrendering those things that I am comfortable with. 

There are many things I repeat in my head and many things I hear others repeat to themselves.  I wonder how my life would change if I repeated the truth about what I hold and what I’ve been told. 

If I was convinced about the burning in my hands and in my heart that brought healing to the lives of others.

If I walked in the authority of the truth. The surety of purpose and passion.

People say things all the time.  I want what I say and what I do to be a reflection of the truth that I believe and the reality of what I hold in my hands. 

I imagine silence

* I wrote this piece for some friends who experienced a deep loss. I hoped that this would speak to them and in the same way I hope that it may speak to you.*

I imagine silence.  Deafening silence.  Muted colors and unimaginable feelings.

Just last week my friend and I discussed whether we would want to be deaf or blind.  After going through options, we both decided that we would rather be deaf….but I think it’s different for you.

I imagine that this seems like a dream, rather, a nightmare as you try to fathom what has just happened to you.

I feel for you.

I imagine that all the words that people are saying are appearing in front of you like writing in the air but the letters are jumbled and falling to the ground.  That the consolation people are trying to offer doesn’t matter that much because you are beyond numb…..and deaf.

I imagine silence.  That has broken into your reality and painted the world gray, or black.  That the moments that you smile are few and fleeting.  That everything makes you want to cry, or does make you cry.

I imagine that you feel hopeless and helpless.  That everything you knew before is not just shaken but broken beyond repair. 

I imagine you feeling like you are holding both life and death inside of you and in your hands.  That everything is happening so quickly but yet in slow motion.  That nothing seems real. 

I imagine your pain, I feel your pain.  I feel for you.

It is strange because one of the main thoughts I have about you and what you are going through is silence.  I have fear, and hope and overwhelming grief and darkness and light,…but really, more than anything, I feel silence.

There are no words that anyone can say to make this better and it seems like even if there were, they wouldn’t matter that much because….well, words can’t bring back what is lost.

And even writing that seems wrong.  How could this happen?

I imagine the questions that you have.  The desire for answers and peace that feels so far away. Holding life and death in your hands and feeling like hope and reality are slipping through your fingers.  I feel for you.

Not wanting to hear words of angels, or divine plans just hoping to get through the next moment because I am sure that this one feels unbearable. 

Images, good and bad burnt into your eternal memory.  Time stretching on and minutes passing so slowly.  Pain not being eased and anger bubbling inside you.  It doesn’t seem to be getting any easier.

But it will.

There is hope.

Through the deafening silence, there is hope and light and one day the breathless feeling that you have will ease.  The tightness in your heart and weight on your chest will be relieved.

It is hard not to put myself in your shoes.  I instantly think of how we are alike and in that moment I can be nothing but fearful and sad.  I have been in many low places.  The worst of these being when I have lost. 

The uncertainty of life is scary.  Feeling, and essentially being helpless is scary.  What if I make a bad move? What if I do too much of this or not enough of that? What if I didn’t kiss my kids before they left for school or my husband before he left for work?

What if I lose everything. Who cares about silver linings or bright days ahead…all I can see is now.

Deafening silence.

The questions won’t stop as you beg for relief ….and quiet. 

I imagine God is angry.

Not with you, but for you. A consoling type of anger. 

I imagine your arms flailing and heart pounding as you fight against an angry consoler. Counselor.

And I feel you.

I wish I could wake you up. I wish I could say anything, but I can’t.

Two phrases for me have meant everything.  One of them was “ I see you.”

I wonder if that could mean anything to you.  If being seen, being known in this impossible abyss could bring you comfort. 

I imagine that you don’t even want comfort, but then…..

Like a wave,

a tight hug you didn’t know you needed,

the sun shining down on and through you,

or

a good cry

it sweeps over you.  Maybe not lasting at first. 

A temporary relief for a pain that doesn’t seem like it will ever pass. 

I sense of hope in your despair.

An angry consoler to catch your tears.

An invisible being that gives a tight embrace.

A burden lifter because you lack the strength.

A gentle whisperer because all you have heard is

Silence.

A deafening silence that will be broken through. 

A heart mender that will put the pieces back together

An angry God, not at you, but for you….one that feels your pain.

A comforter that will help you through the pain as you remember your joy and loss.

A sweet embrace that will bring you hope.

A God that may not prevent, but will always see you through with love, hope and a righteous anger.

A break in the silence as you begin to hear again.  You won’t want to hear everything, but some things will be beautiful. 

Let this warmth and light shine in your life as you travel this road. You are not alone.  You will never be alone.