Winter 89 Couture -- ratmas day 1

[Deleted]

STARRING...

ainara gaultier

Lights, Camera, Holliday-

There's always an event when the dramatics are involved, so it's only fitting Haus of Gaultier whip something up for the festive season. Haziel strikes out the menu items and replaces them with one night exclusives, peppermint and eggnog shots prepped before the doors even open. Before the runway starts, the show begins - Ainara's legs outstretched center stage modelling an ice diamond boa. Eight may not commercialize glamour, but the true beauties can be found deep in West Abundance Court. 

"Bring it to the runway! One night and one night only, We, Haus of Gaultier, open our doors to the Tailors of 8. Serve face, serve body, just serve it," she paces the stage with furs dripping to the floor. Sweeping as she walks, "what we're looking for is industry changing, the face of next year's fashion, who's gonna bring it?" The flare, the drama, she hikes her gown at the thigh as she struts down the runway herself. The Beauty, it's devilish to look this good just to host. 

Category is: Nativity Realness

---

This event's for all the new age models & tailors of district 8, whatever you've got bring that shit to the runway and sell it. You'll roll three 1-10 die to determine your judge scores -- 10, 10, 10's across the board is a perfect score! You can RP it as modelling someone else's clothes or someone modelling what you've made, whatever brings down the ball x

[ ✬ ]

[pogue]

C O L T    S H A W M A N

"Um, should it be poking me there-"

His voice raises and cracks as the stylist-to-be behind him suddenly pulls the strings of the corset wrapped around his mid-section tight, the air in his chest compressing and his skin screaming in protest as the piece of clothing tightens its grip. He gasps, a chorus to the girl's sigh as she finally ties the strings together and circles around to face him, cupping her chin as she looks him up and down with a gaze that could kill. 

Finally, she gives up on trying to go any further, resigned to what she's already created as she cups his chin in her hands. "Look, Shawman. Fashion is beauty and beauty-" She flicks his forehead and smirks as he recoils backwards, stinging sensation spreading from the source. "is worth a little bit of pain." 

"I-" His words don't find themself, they never do. "Yeah, okay." She nods and throws a smile faker than anything before leaving him in the line up for the runway. "Guess the wise king isn't so wise." He hears the girl's friend say, convinced his words are nothing but a whisper. He frowns as they laugh and laugh.

He catches himself in the glass and deems his form unrecognizable, not that he had much to go off in the first place. Adorned in fool's gold and chains, chest riddled with diamonds and the folklore legend of a king wiser than anything carrying gifts for a child who wasn't worth it. At least, that's what he'd been able to piece together from what his stylist had told him.

Seemed like a crock of shit.

He sighs, pulling at the neckpiece that digs into his skin as he waits for the call, pulling at the strings his own parents have sewn into his soul until he threatens to fall apart completely. It's in the silence that he finds his own relief, away from his own life and encompassed in a new one completely. Anything, even this, is a form of escape from a life like that.

"Shawman, you're up! Wait for it-"

He gulps, lights blinding in front of him.

"and, go."

S C O R E S


L7KgVBIGUw1-10

1-10

1-10

1-10·1-10·1-10

[ines izar d11a 🖤 cait]

She’d been scouted two days earlier, approached by a bright-eyed and bushy-haired five-foot-two ball of energy.

“You. Are. EVERYTHING!” the stranger had squealed, clapping excitedly and bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. “You HAVE to model for me in the Gaultier Couture Fashion Show!”

Let it be known: Astra Selen is no model.

She is a dying star, a flash across the sky, running down the last few sparks of her fuse before her inevitable crash back down to Earth. She dresses in black and sticks to the shadows and most certainly does not draw attention to herself.

But another thing that must be known: Astra Selen cannot say no.

And so, it is two days later on the eve of Ratmas when she is roused from her waking slumber, yet not even the ever-comforting presence of the full moon can boost her confidence. She finds it sitting at the bottom of her chest at an all-time low.

She allows herself to be wrapped in gauze, chiffon, silk – a dizzying myriad of fabrics that shouldn’t work together, she thinks to herself, but really, what does she know? She is an expert of the universe – of stars and planets and the gravitational forces holding the world together – but this is foreign territory.

Her hand is forced open as her effervescent new acquaintance passes her a shot glass filled with something silver and sparkly. For good luck.

“Remember: no smiling!” the up-and-coming designer reminds her, attempting to pout her lips as an example and failing miserably. As the smile returns to the young extrovert’s face, bursting at the seams, Astra hardens her own. She is the very face of anonymity – she mastered the frown when she was barely 3 months old. A deep breath exhaled – she’s made worse decisions in her brief lifetime, she tells herself, as she lets the path of moonlight guide her down the illuminated runway.

_63kczDcbJ1-10 1-10 1-10

1-10·1-10·1-10

[kap]

k r o ' k a
w a y l a n d - m o o n

"What a time to be alive
Such a waste of fucking time"

Of all people, my father wanted me to model Moon Outfitters LLC's newest clothing line, and, of course, I didn't have a choice. As soon as he heard that there was going to be a runway show, he entered me in it. I'd be wearing some stupid design he'd probably ripped off of someone else, and that he probably didn't even sew himself. I suppose that was just how things were in my life. If Lorenzo Moon wanted something done, it was done, and in the way he wanted it to be done.

As I was put into my clothing for the runway show, I felt like some kid's doll, or a mannequin in a tailor's shop. I didn't feel like myself, but I knew that if I didn't hold myself confidently for this competition, it wouldn't end well for me later. So, I did what I had to.

When it was my turn to strut down the runway, I held my shoulders back with confidence and the look on my face said I was cocky, despite feeling far from that. I hated every second of being up on that runway. I just wanted to hide. I wanted to escape like a turtle into its shell. The lights were blinding and it all just sucked.

elegant

Scores:

gXmLQUOmro1-10

1-10

1-10

1-10·1-10·1-10

[marguerite harvard d2a (zori)]

o l i v e
g a r d e n

"*"

"Blackston, I don’t really want to – ” Olive itched at the white suit he’d been sown into, flush back against the curtain as he watched the other models get ready. In all his life, he’d never been the type to wear anything remotely formal, and here he was looking something like a capitolite.

“You look so good! I can’t believe it.” Blackston Hope had spent the last year focusing on his patterns, on watching capitol television and scouring old magazines for inspiration. While Olive would scratch away moody poems and laugh with his not-aunt at the idiots in the district, Blackston had attacked tailoring with a zeal he hadn’t seen since, well, he’d seen him pontificate about god in the holiday market.

“I don’t think this is really my – ” Olive wiggled back as he spoke, but Blackston began to smooth back his hair. He moved a lint roller down along the front of his jacket and wiped away any stray hairs pistachio might’ve gotten on his garment. Olive couldn’t help but grin at how much his meant to Blackston. The little guy had found something that he excelled at that didn’t constantly have him worrying about his mortal soul.

“Aunty Birdie isn’t going to believe I got you to dress up for this,” Blackston said with a step back to survey his handiwork. Perhaps it wasn’t quite as flashy as the rest of them, but he’d done quite the job making Olive look expensive. Not that he’d ever see himself wearing such clothes ever again.

“… probably ask me what the hell I was doing…” Olive muttered as Blackston motioned him to stage. It was finally his turn, and so Olive gave a salute to Blackston and marched forward.

After all, even if he wasn’t used to being a model, he could strut.

elegant

U8GrWZ_J0B1-10

1-10

1-10

1-10·1-10·1-10

[Deleted]

I can't believe my sister convinced me to do this. I know she wants to get into fashion or whatever, but why couldn't she have made one of her friends model? I know the answer. She could bug me in the middle of the night for measurements or to try on a new piece. She had been preparing for this for a while and looking at everyone else I wasn't feeling too confident for her.

It was a simple outfit for me. A button up shirt with a jacket and some pants. Some of the outfits here were pretty out there. And Ona isn't bad at fashion design or whatever - she's just not there quite yet I don't think. And it doesn't help I've never modelled anything before. She had me try to "practice" but it's different when there's judges and half the district watching versus some sheep and Tiernan.

Looking at the other models, at least I wasn't the only guy dressed kind of boring. Just jackets and slacks. When it was getting close to my turn to go I took deep breaths. I wanted to at least do somewhat good for my sister so she wasn't too upset. Some of these judges were hard asses. I heard one guy even got a one. Oh well, at least I'm unremarkable enough that even if I fail I'll be swiftly forgotten. I turned to my sister before I began, "Wish me luck!"

judge one

eeIDd4mHTp1-10

judge two

1-10

judge three

1-10

1-10·1-10·1-10

[marcellus rhodes 11b arc]

If there's one thing Pierre ever taught me, it's that children will always sell the garment. No matter what. I know this because I was that child growing up. A tiny, chatterbox of a boy who'll happily take the challenge? Come on, that's the basics of emotional warfare in economics. Now it's Lotus' turn to head on down the runway to promote products. I hope dad sees this, and it brings a smile to his face.

"Why can't I wear a dress like all the other girls?" I give her a light grin, squatting down to get to her height. "No, Lotus. Do you want to blend in? This stuff will stand out, I promise." I give a reassuring nod to her, rubbing her shoulders. I can see that little flash of worry in her eyes. She thinks that we won't get the best score. She's worried that our submission sucks. I'd be scared too, but I think it looks great. She's sporting the pair of gloves that she knit, along with a scarf and hat I made. They're a light pink color, and on each of them has "LP" embroidered for her initials. Soon enough, they call our name.

I brush off her shirt and give her a tight hug. "Remember, we're going out and getting those chocolate croissants you love after this!" I had to convince her to do this somehow. Nothing gets Lotus more excited than a bakery run.

n9il8myXjc1-10
1-10
1-10

1-10·1-10·1-10

[bailee]

adolesca marchenko

The thing was, I was far from a stylist, and even further from a model. In a District filled with wannabe Capitol stylists I sometimes felt as if I didn't fit in with my attire consisting of hoodies and joggers, but boredom strikes easily and somehow I had spent my entire savings on thrifted outfits. A New Years Resolution of making myself over, I guess you could say. And looking at myself in the mirror, I definitely had some sort of Je Ne Sais Quoi that resulted in me impulsively signing up for this Christmas fashion show despite not dawning a single piece of branded garment.

Modelling, though, was easier than I thought. I was pretty, I was charismatic, and the runway suited me. Maybe this was how I could make a living. Maybe then my mother wouldn't pester me so much about what I was going to do once I graduated high school.

If I won, I would reserve bragging rights knowing that I beat out every other serious designer with a thrifted outfit. Hah, wouldn't that be something? And if I lost, fuck it. I was bored anyway.


HrSO1G9odQ1-10

1-10

1-10

1-10·1-10·1-10

[Deleted]

this hoe is CLOSED thanks to all the participants!

our 2nd runner up with 18 points: Colt Shawman
our 1st runner up with 21 points: Fionn Quirke

and the winner of the runway with 25 points
(and also winning a free CB!):

Astra Selen! [ines izar d11a 🖤 cait]