As a kid, I used to sketch clothing. My friends and I imagined our own fashion brands and collected these sketches into booklets, like homemade catalogs dreaming of our Delia’s. We were obsessed with Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen, Sister Sister, Lizzie McGuire, Totally Spies, Destiny’s Child coordinated outfits, The Cheetah Girls, etc. If it had a fashion twist, we were lining up to consume it. We excitedly watched What Not To Wear, America’s Next Top Model, and Project Runway, hoping one day that we would be a fashion force to reckon with. I gravitated to the design side while my friends were more interested in modeling, stylist, and it-girl/influencer ideal. To be honest, I think that girl of 11 would not believe the garment that would solidify my feeling of a true designer would be a set of loungewear instead of an avant-garde gown.
My sewing plan for 2022 had been simple, make, make, and make some more. I scoured Joann’s clearance bins and drooled over Mood’s selection of prints itching to make something of a higher caliber than my previous tries. I had drafted my own coat, tried some vintage patterns, and successfully made lounge pants for my husband yet had struggled with fitting my own pants. I had dabbled in tops but didn’t understand shoulder seams or hoods. I was still quite green! But I needed some new pajamas and thought hey, let’s do this. So I dug out of my fabric stash this cheerful blue gingham in soft cotton shirting. It felt like being wrapped in a hug with a little drape. I was feeling cocky after sewing two vintage patterned dresses earlier in 2022 and thought, how hard could it be to make myself some pants. I figured out that 1940s pattern, I got this. And actually, it turned out to be one of my favorite early pieces!
This set was made of a pair of high-waisted drawstring pants with oversized balloon-style pants that tapered into a cuffed ankle. The matching crop top featured a generous hood and long sleeves with a boxy fit that just felt so relaxed and cool. With the hood up I felt like Princess Leia in her original white dress. The geometric pattern and unusual silhouette gave me the confidence to seek out my own style with sewing, not just be a vintage hobbity cottage-core girl that was so popular around this time. This helped me to remember to be playful with my designs and inspire the little girl who sketched clothes while she was supposed to be taking notes in class. It reminded me of the Cheetah Girls matching track-suits and avant-garde silhouettes I craved from street style.
What made this feel full circle was not just how good I felt in the garment, but the doors it opened up. My cousin’s daughter fell in love with the piece and wanted me to make her one. That was the first time I had made something that people wanted to buy. It felt incredible! But also taught me that the vision of what I dreamed of becoming, was not that far off from those designs I sketched as a kid. They weren’t show-pieces for a runway, they were real-life clothing that was playful and useful for living life in. I realized I do have a place in the fashion space even if I’m not in a fashion capital, running a brand. The world right now doesn’t need more ballgowns or high fashion editorial pieces, it needs functional clothing made locally and created with love for the people we love. I could be a fashion designer who could make humble pieces a little more special. That’s where Potato Technology became a tangible idea instead of a pipe dream.
One Rabbit Riot 