Early in the afternoon on Saturday October 1st, Miami students began gathering in the Shriver Heritage room for the Fashion for Charity “Perception vs. Reality” fashion show. The show featured clothing from Juniper, Magnolia, and African wraps. As models practiced strutting down the runway and the cameramen set their film, it became clear that everyone had preshow jitters.
When four o’clock rolled around, the makeup artists and hair stylist arrived, transforming the models into edgy fashionistas. Soon after, the African dresses were created. It was amazing to see the unique designs as students wrapped their fellow models in vibrant sheets of fabric. After much twisting and turning, the two-dimensional cloths became stunning, flashy, and unique dresses.
Friends, family members, and fashion lovers filled Shriver with high anticipation for a great show. The venue was full of glitter and glitz, with mannequins outfitted in aluminum dresses. Tribal music began and the show officially started. Stepping to the beat, the models began to strut down the catwalk, stopping at each mark for a quick picture.
Behind the scenes, however, all hell was breaking loose. As the models ran off the stage, they were instantly attacked by a team that was ready to remove safety pins and rewrap new African gowns. Bras, pins, and African clothes were flying everywhere. What was done for the first set of models in one hour was done for the next round of girls in a matter of seconds. A new set of models, including me, lined up wearing the recyclable clothing line. It was my first experience modeling (unless you count strutting out of the dressing room at Forever 21). I could not have been more nervous.
The stage wasn’t set up in time to do a full run-through of the show, so I never actually walked on the elevated stage before it was showtime. I began to think of everything that could possibly go wrong–from stumbling, to my heel getting stuck in a crack, falling off the stage, and ending up in a stretcher. With all of these thoughts running through my head, I felt oddly grateful when my friend tapped me on the shoulder and whispered “You’re next.”
I took a big breath and sauntered out onto the stage. As the lights hit me, I felt a surge of emotion; being on an elevated stage was like being in my own world, and I couldn’t see anything but cameramen snapping photos. I felt fearless and fierce. Suddenly, nothing else mattered; I was no longer Morgan, I was a model.