Go Figure: How Being a Figure Skater Inspired My Passion For Fashion

Hello all! I know it's been awhile. My beloved father passed away and I needed to take some time to grieve with my family. But now I'm back, with my perspective on the intersection of fashion and life that's uniquely mine.

Needless to say, I've been doing a lot of reflecting over the past 8 months. Particularly about happy childhood and adolescent memories. And for me, many of those came from being at the dance studio and, eventually and especially, at the ice rink. I started dance classes at a very young age, and took a special interest in classical ballet. As time went on, I progressed to pre pointe class, and was advised to be absolutely certain of my committment to ballet before continuing on to pointe classes. I wasn't 100% sold. Ballet was all I knew. My mom, in her infinite wisdom, thought I should try another sport to give me perspective. So she suggested signing me up for figure skating lessons, and I agreed.

Let me tell you, from the minute my blades hit the ice, I was hooked. Initially, I hugged the boards, but before long, I was skating free across the ice. I felt like I was flying. So I hung up my ballet slippers, and traded them in for figure skates. As I moved up through the Learn-To-Skate ranks, my love for skating only burned brighter. Spinning was my favorite thing to do. Once I graduated LTS and got my own coach, I found that my absolute favorite spin to do was the layback. I used to tie my hair in a ponytail, and use it as an anchor as I leaned back into the spin. Regardless, once I was on that ice, I never wanted to get off. My mom can recall countless occaisions of her begging me to get off the ice at the end of practice, because she had to ge dinner started. I would pretend I didn't hear her, and skate circles around the opening of the ice where the Zamboni would drive onto. It was only as the cleaning machine would begin to inch onto the ice that I would start heading towards the boards, the Zamboni driver chuckling as I did.

My favorite moments came on summer days at the rink. I'd leave my teenage summer job and ask my mom to get me to the rink early. God bless her, she always obliged. We'd get there, and the rink would be quiet; the calm before the next influx of skaters. Because of the heat from outside, it would mix with the frigid cold of the rink, and every time someone would open the door from outside, it would add to the effect it created: fog. I would scurry over to the benches and get my skates on as fast as I could. The ice would be cleaned - prepped and ready for the session that was yet to begin. I'd get on the ice and begin my warmup routine. Even, powerful yet graceful strokes along the sides of the rink, and crossovers at the top and bottom. Just me, my breath, and the ice, the rhythmic purring of my blades beneath me the only sound. And because of the fog swirling around me, it was like I was skating in the clouds. Sometimes I'd even get to skate a bit of my routine, or free skate and get a spiral across the ice - relishing in having it all to myself, twirling and dancing across the ice as the clouds swirled around me. It was a truly magical experience.

But I fell in love with more than just skating at that rink. It was within those frozen walls that I also began my love affair with fashion. Years of watching my glamorous family primed the pump, but combing the racks in search of the perfect skating costume or practice outfit was where the love truly began to flourish. It started with finding the perfect dress, one that had a skirt that would flutter just the right way when I spun. But as time progressed, I became very interested in styling my rink looks. I found I gravitated toward a classic style. My favorite outfit consisted of my nude microfiber tights, a bodysuit, and the pièce de résistance: a black, airy chiffon wrap skirt. It was a nod to my ballet roots, with an Audrey Hepburn vibe. I felt so beautiful as I glided across the ice in it, the skirt gently fluttering with my movement. The walk to get on and off the ice may have been lined with special rubber mats, but it may as well have been a catwalk - at least it was for me. I strutted as gracefully as I could, with excitement for the skating to come on the way in, and tired exhilaration after skating my butt off, my cheeks rosy from happiness and exertion, on the way back.

But the best part was finding an outfit for an exhibition (the skating world's version of a recital), or test in front of the judges. It was where my love of glitz and sparkle reached new heights. The way the crystals on a dress caught the light and gleamed, how sequins glittered with movement and added extra feminity. How different fabrics and textures conveyed different vibes: velvet was more formal; chiffon was ethereal and polished; and so on. It was also important to match your costume to the music of your program, as well as your personal style.

For example, my coach came up with a catchy new program for me, one that I would skate to in front of the judges in hopes of them passing me, allowing me to go up a level. A new Star Wars movie had come out, and she thought it would be fun if I skated to the theme song. She played the music for me, and I loved how it sounded so dramatic and iconic. So I set out in search of the perfect dress for the song. At one of the local skating shops I found it: a maroon, velvet dress with a fluttery skirt, nehru collar, gold piping and ornate gold buttons. Wearing it, I felt like I was Queen Amidala's emissary. I felt so regal as I took the ice and struck the beginning pose to my routine. I ended up passing my test with the judges, and that's when I learned that beauty is strength. That I could compete and toil and sweat and put myself out there, and beauty and fashion could be my armor. That velvet dress carried me into battle, and I had emerged victorious. I also found it could be like that with everyday clothes and circumstances, too.

As I became an adult, those lessons formed the bedrock of who I was. To keep getting up, no matter how many times you get knocked down. Practice makes perfect. To always carry yourself with poise and grace. And that clothes can be armor, and telegraph things without words. And a love of classic, feminine lines, sparkles and sequins, too. You can still see echoes of my inner skater to this day. In the sequin trim in a scarf I made, a dress with a skirt that has just a little extra flutter to it, or the glitter of my Swarovski crystal earrings. Don't get me started about the unparalled beauty of those crystals! And if there's a situation I'm headed into that's got me nervous, I always make sure I wear something that makes me feel strong and beautiful. And I still like my clothes to tell a story, regardless of where I'm going or what I'm doing. I'm proud of my inner ice princess. Those timeless lessons I learned at the rink made me who I am today, and gave me a love of fashion and beautiful things that has only grown. Add to that my love of bargain hunting and thrifting, and it's even sweeter.

Those are my musings for now. Until next time, stay fabulous!