Melting the Ice

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CAROLINA PRESTON’S PENCIL GLIDED OVER THE paper like an Olympic figure skater performing an arabesque. Light, easy strokes, the effort behind the task not showing as she created her art, because it was all in her head. But soon, elegant lines appeared, shapes forming on the blank canvas as what she’d visualized became a flowing, sleeveless silk top, followed by a sequined mini. She added a cropped leather jacket to mix hard with soft, sketched in some killer high heels to complete the look, then paused to peruse the finished product, so out of breath her heart pounded.

Nice. Not perfect yet, but as she took a sip of chai tea, she cocked her head to the side and made a few adjustments to the sketch, exhilarated to create her own line of clothing.

It had taken several years of working for someone else, of feeling like a prisoner, unable to stretch her wings. But finally, this fashion season—she was going to fly.

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