Behind the Scenes at Dallas Fashion Week 2025
Backstage at a fashion show is its own universe — loud, bright, frantic, and strangely beautiful. The moment we arrived, the space shifted into a whirlwind of fabric, steam, and adrenaline. My garments hung in a shimmering row, each one carrying weeks of work, and before anything else could happen, we had to tackle the most time‑consuming task of all: steaming. Rhiannon, absolute hero of the day, took charge of the steamer and battled some of the most stubborn skirts I’ve ever created. She spent nearly two hours smoothing out wrinkles that seemed determined to stay, while Megan and I organized the rest of the chaos around her.
Just when we thought we had a rhythm, the show coordinator appeared with news that made my stomach drop — the audio file for my segment wasn’t in her inbox. Cue instant panic. I called in a very good friend who helped me rebuild the file from scratch and resend it. It took multiple attempts, a lot of deep breaths, and a little luck to get it into Becky’s hands in time. That kind of behind‑the‑scenes crisis never shows on the runway, but it absolutely defines the day.
Meanwhile, the models were arriving. Elissa and I came hair‑and‑makeup ready, but the other seven girls had to cycle through the glam team. One of my models, Milli, flew in from NYC and just made it — the kind of dramatic timing that only adds to the backstage energy. Once everyone was accounted for, we began dressing them, which is never a quick process. Each look required stacking garments in the right order, smoothing layers, adjusting structure, and finally lacing them into their corsets with precision. With eight girls and only two helpers, every second mattered. We tightened the last set of laces with literal seconds to spare before lineup.
And then, because the universe loves a twist, they made me walk the runway. If you know me, you know I hate that. I’m happiest backstage, tightening ribbons and adjusting bodices, but there I was — stepping into the lights with my models, heart pounding, adrenaline buzzing. It felt surreal, like walking through a dream I’d been building stitch by stitch.
When the show finally wrapped, the chaos melted into laughter, relief, and that warm, exhausted glow that only comes from doing something wildly difficult and wildly worth it. It was a crazy, fun, adrenaline‑pumping day — the kind of day that reminds me why I love this craft, this world, this magic. And now it lives here, in this journal entry, capturing the frantic beauty, the tiny miracles, and the wonder of watching a vision come alive under the runway lights.