Oh no she didn't...

Me, backstage for Dick Whittington at the Epson theatre with the costumes for the dancers.

Production Manager on stage right.

Fairy, waiting for her cue.

A sneaky look offstage for Co-producer and King Rat.

Misty walks on cold lonely evenings

What I thought was particularly beautiful was the way the mist created a beautiful blue for the sihouettes to contrast against.

These shots were inspired by some of Lolita's work. Her stunning paintings of harsh rooms depicted in soft light ecouraged me to capture the way the glow from the streetlamp outside my house was battling against the dark shadows of the graveyard. For Lolita's work see, [ http://lolitasartspaceonthemoon.blogspot.com/ ].

A series of unfortunately good costume choices

Jim Carey as Count Olaf in 'A Series of Unfortunate Events'

Here are some costumes that I really appreciate artistically. I'd call them 'gritty' but was told by a collegue that this is not the true Oxford meaning of the word. My gritty is that type of image or object that has depth, that looks like its been lived in detailed dirty, odd but fitting in its space. I believe this type of gritty is important to highly imaginative images as it grounds them in their own reality.

I suppose for a start if you want gritty then you can't really go wrong with the disproportioned top hat. The ribbon band at the base of the hat only enlongates the shape even more. What I like about this outfit is that its silhouette is not outlandish but it still is completely absurd. Don't get me wrong, I like outlandish; but the fact that this manages to achieve that without an obvious deformaty of tradition. What makes this exciting is its ludicrous take on the pinstripe. I'm not sure if they are handrawn or just warped by the thickness of the fabric.

Where it really gets intricate is when the trim on the edges of the straps mimic the vertical lines on the suit. This way the eye is guided round the form by these lines gets more dynamic as we reach the waistcoat where they fan out into a black velvet waistcoat. The outfit only simplifys just before the neckline so that nothing detracts from the period collar and introduction of an underlayer.

closer details like the big medieval style buttons make the costume even more menacing and confusing.

Indecent exposure

Me, on a slippery Trafalgar square lion, dressed in my foundation disaster.

Original Photo by: Richard Twilton

Retaken because I cannot find the digital copy by: Gabrielle

Concept by: Gabrielle

So I'm there. I've beaten 3 in 4 students to get a place at one of the most notorious and fruitful University branches for fashion ever, and I'm pissing about on a lion. Good one Gaby.

Maybe I should explain the events leading up to my brush with a police officer. It's probably the most career shaping moments of my life. The fork that will lead you two very different ways. The foundation course, I'm told was originally designed to weedle out those who didn't really want a career in the arts; and which I found out was a cull of the weak, quite rightly so. I'd draw, oh god I'd drawn. I'd sculpted yes, I'd even fashioned clothes out of tin cans and cardboard but never fashion designed, not properly. 

I respect Central St Martins entirely and believe that they have created a good buisness plan to ensure they get the right people for the job; but from the moment I joined their foundation course to the moment I left was the craziest most soul destroying/ creating time of my life. The unsurety of who was next to be culled from the fashion group can only be described as standing in a herd of buffalo, surrounded by lionesses,all scrabbling to stand up, pushing others out in the hope that letting the lions pick of the weak would be enough to keep us alive. Not very inspiring.

So I did what anyone would do, I tried my best. The thing was, my best was declining at this point. Basic skills such as drawing and photography were improving. But my inspiration was stiffled and those that showed promise were not developing into clothes. Then one morning at 4:00 am I was up doing my work (which was normal for CSM) writing an essay that I had to submit on why I wanted to do fashion: and it hit me, High fashion wasn't the career path that I was intended for, it didn't and had never fitted me as a person. I wasn't cut throat enough for one, whims of fashion did not interest me and I wanted a career in which I could work in a team. Do my part to make something special, not follow trends always being out of date. Always behind.

It was my tutor Sophie Gorton who had mentioned that I'd be better in costume design, and once that idea got into my head, I couldn't shake it. For once, it made sense for me, and not the girl I was trying to be.

As for the indecent exposure. Desparation is a dangerous thing. The lengths I was going to go to, to show off a rather shoddy product will forever be a symbol of how in desparate moments you can find out alot about yourself.

Sketches- Age 15