When I was a miserable middle-school-er I got super into fashion magazines. Elle was a favorite. But in some ways even more compelling was the late-80's / early-90's iteration of W -- back when it was a folded over-sized newspaper-type thing, rather than a bound periodical, and full of fashion sketches and illustrations. From studying those I realized you didn't have to draw faces or (always the worst) hands! You could just focus on the clothes. And focus I did. Always a draw-er, I started drawing fashion gals (so named after the cheap trendy clothing shop, Fashion Gal, in the local strip mall, where I first bought garments with my own money: a cropped denim blazer and a purple cowl-neck sweater with turquoise checkerboard around the bottom hem -- but I digress) to the exclusion of all other subject matter. I'd churn these out by the dozens. They made me happy at an age when, as we all recall, very little does. I found the binder full of them when I was clearing out my mother's house this summer. There are more than a hundred of them, but I'll just put them here, now and then, a few at a time. I find I still wish now what I wished then: that these clothes were real so I could wear them.
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