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.
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?
What do you think?
2 comments:
Love!!!
Loved the blog and so happy for you and the team for this awesome experience. Thanks for sharing with us and may God continue to propel you all to higher heights.
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