Project I: Shame
by Viah N.
Messy apartment, in an apartment she can’t afford and a very chaotic thinker. She’s an incredible chef with questionable taste in lovers. I’ll admit, we both have questionable taste, but the point of the matter is, we share a very weird bond.
She’ll tell me, “Hey, I wouldn't touch this man with a stick, but he works in finance and can possibly pay my rent.” Not in those exact words, but you get the point.
My brain is a cluttered minefield; intrusive thoughts running rampantly, endless amounts of mental notes that must be captured, too many conflicting emotions and a constant fixation on random oddities. Sometimes, a lobotomy often feels like a tempting idea.
The one fatal flaw that injects my brain is shame. As someone who is susceptible to shame, I have the tendency to blame myself for the shame I endure and place myself in a contradictory shame cycle. And yes, I can understand how that can be quite confusing. My shame is a paradox, and an over-thinker– she often makes it incredibly difficult navigating the most mundane days of my life, to my closest relationships.
It took moving to Brazil for me to realize that I have a big demon to battle. I was under the impression that I knew everything about myself, until I discovered my unconscious cycle of self sabotage had created a strain on my relationships.
When Shame gets her way, I get so blinded by how she got me here–but I never fail to notice the aftermath.
She’s funny. Shame is a manic pixie dream girl; everything seems to be going swimmingly, until she reminds me of that one moment, from that one time, where I made up a terrible white lie on the spot to someone I care about. The funny thing is, it could have been avoided if those words didn’t have to leave my mouth or I simply told the truth.
“I’m sorry, I was never that busy. I think we have different expectations for each other and I don’t like being called boo.” Is what I would have said to rip the bandaid off. Now, every time I see this man, I have to look busy to keep up appearances.
Instead, I made time for someone else and told him, “Hey, I am so busy this week with homework and this commission. Maybe we can hang out two weeks from now because I have midterms.”
We were friends that should have stayed just friends. Once things became intimate, I began to feel smothered by him. I would hate to lose a friend, but it might just end up that way anyways.
I briefly mentioned my friend Ariel, she is half-white and half Cantonese and lives in a studio in the Upper West Side. We met in draping class. Struggling to meet deadlines, we helped each other out, shared materials and formed a bond with each other that stood the test of a pandemic.
Today we are still friends. Sort of. I feel like our relationship is mentally draining. We would often talk about dating and it would usually start off with me being asked for advice, that would be completely ignored. Our conversations would usually end with her stating “I hate men, men are trash.” while I sit silently disagreeing. I never told her I felt annoyed by how our conversations were always centered around men or that I am bothered by her cycle of self sabotage.
I love her, but the voice in my head judges her, but my heart loves her. What does that say about me? What does that say about the relationships I engage in? Am I a terrible person?
I feel like it’s simply not my place, so I don’t say much.
And here is when Shame makes her debut.
Shame is fond of creeping in at the perfect moment, running a timer that no one (but you) foreshadowed an end to. She often cosplays herself as pride and plays a hell of an act as ego. How does that work? Lord, I have no clue.
Ariel has been a great support to me during the lowest points of my life. Shame wants me to maintain our relationship because she has opened her home to me and lifted financial burdens. Shame reminds me that if I were to shut the door on this relationship, it would mean that everything was merely transactional.
Shame is relentless, she has an ego (but hates to admit it) and has a way of carving a spotlight for herself in my prayers, my journal entries, and my hearts’ desires. I know how she was conceived, but it’s a tiring story to retell and damn near a broken record: trauma trauma, trauma.
I’ve made many attempts to escape my weird relationship with Shame by finding myself in fiction, self-help podcasts, therapy and friends.
What does this all have to do with Shame? Well, this way of thinking is all a part of a cycle that I am struggling to battle. I am starting to think that Shame might not be the only partner dancing in this strange tango.
Shame drives me to partake in morally compromising activities. As a big old adult, I can’t blame Shame for my missteps and lack of boundaries.
I was once told that, “Shame is a weight that you only carry and no one can see.”
The journey is so much better when you’re traveling the world with lighter luggage.
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Project II: The Sweater That Became Me: In Conversation With Tom Scott
by Viah N.
Like most sentimental beings, many may possess an heirloom that lives in their homes or remains as a permanent personal staple in their own wardrobe—whether we interact with it or not. A sweater that was neither passed down to me nor acquired in a tear jerking way, ceases to escape my person. It’s a closet staple that ignores seasonality and climate. It found me and attached itself to me since.
This razzle dazzle of a sweater met my eyes in 2018 at the Crossroads Thrift Shop located on 26th and 6th Ave. Mesmerized by the loops, I knew it was meant to be. So full of life–the loops were light, bouncy and divine. Upon first glance, it looked to have been lightly worn, if not touched at all—I would often imagine why? Why would someone not see this as an opportunity to live in? Why would someone part ways with such a unique piece? Why part ways with it at the crossroads? When I made the decision to take this piece home, I knew it would see a new like and become a part of me. From the most fragile moments, to goodbyes, adventures, and heartbreak– this sweater has seen it all and attached itself to me for nearly a decade.
It’s almost comical when I realized that I hadn’t taken the time to look into the designer that made my sweater until now. As I began my search down this rabbit hole, I came across a listing on the RealReal for my exact sweater:
Tom Scott Baby Alpaca Cardigan
Neutral
Long Sleeve with Mock Neck
Button Closure at Front
100% Baby Alpaca
Tom Scott baby alpaca loop sweater, size Large[2] (The RealReal)
I wasn’t particularly in the market for a replacement, but I was curious if I could find this cardigan again. Shortly after this discovery, I began to do more research on the designer, and to my surprise, I couldn’t find anything. Not a store, not a lookbook, not a thing—bupkis.
In Conversation With Tom Scott
After thorough research, what I encountered shocked me—the man responsible for designing the piece that remains tried and true in my wardrobe is currently an associate professor, specializing in the Knitwear and Sportswear program at FIT. On March 16th, 2025, I browsed through the directory and personally reached out to Professor Scott via email:
“Good Evening Professor Scott,
I hope this email finds you well! My name is Viah Nitro and I am a second year fashion design student. I am reaching out regarding an alpaca loop knit mock neck sweater you designed a few years ago. In 2018, I crossed paths with this sweater at a thrift store and it has been a staple in my closet since.
I am currently working on an English assignment, where I must critically analyze an artifact, and my artifact was your sweater. While going down this rabbit hole, I discovered that you are a professor at FIT! I thought it would be a great idea to reach out to the mind behind the design.
Would you possibly have some time this week either in-person or via email for a quick chat--I would love to ask you a few questions about this sweater? I am curious about your work and how you came about this design.
You must be terribly busy, so I understand if you don't have much time to discuss this at all--I hope to hear from you soon, if not, thank you for your time!
Best,
Viah Nitro”[3]
The following day, I received a surprising follow-up response to my email:
“Dear Viah,
It's so good to hear from you- and read this email! How exciting that you have one of my pieces and are going to write about it!
I'd be happy to meet you to discuss it- are you free on Thursdays? I teach Knitwear in CC41 (in the basement) if you'd like you can stop by the class at the end and see the room, and we can chat for a few minutes?
Sounds good? I teach from 9-1pm :)
Let me know, and all the best
Tom”[4]
After a few exchanges, we established a time and a place to meet. On Thursday afternoon, I made my way to the Knitting Lab, where we conversated about him, his work and a bit of his experience working in the industry. Wearing the sweater in question, Professor Scott was quite impressed (in my humble opinion) with the current condition of my sweater. It was lived in and amateurly mended by yours truly, with contrasting threads—this was a personal choice to make it my own.
About Tom Scott
[5]
Before establishing his studio in 2001, Tom Scott began his textile studies in Philadelphia and Scotland. Professor Scott combines various mediums, such as textiles, sculpture, accessories and furniture; cultivating the breeding grounds for experimental design. According to his site, “The studio currently focuses on paper collage, textile experimentation, and recycled and handcrafted objects and furniture.”[6] (Tom Scott) Currently, Professor Scott works out of his Greenpoint studio in Brooklyn, NY and is a professor at FIT.
“hair culture”
In our conversation, I learned that this particular garment was part of his Fall/Winter 2010 collection “hair culture”, showcased in the LES at The Beauty Bar. When asked about the conception of this design, Professor Scott revealed that this design was derived from the idea of creating a “vegan knit”.
Madres Y Artesanas
We briefly discussed the conception of this piece; this particular style was hand crocheted in partnership with Bolivian artisans and crocheters, Madres Y Artesanas, a textile company run by Bolivian Mothers. These mothers came from various backgrounds, like abuse, neglect. With a desire for agency, these women were empowered to utilize their skills to provide for their families. These mothers would often take projects home to “develop knitwear, producing high-quality, handmade, finished products - employing innovative designs, and utilizing natural materials like alpaca, blended with premium fibers such as angora and silk.”[9] (Madres Y Artesanas)
After-Thoughts
After thorough research, an idea became evident to me: the journey. The journey has always been more exciting than the destination. In 2018, I couldn’t imagine that this sweater would bring me here, and I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason.
With this belief, I started to ponder about the why. Why now? Was it because I needed something to talk about for an English assignment ? Was it because this was a journey I was meant to take? Or is it just a sweater that I overly analyzed for the sake of being a fashion nerd?
This sweater is important to me because it led me here. It led me to explore and connect in a way I have never done before. It got me out of my comfort zone and allowed me to enter a flow state. As a result, I met an incredible designer, learned more about a priceless piece I will hopefully be able to pass down to a loved one.
Now, I have an incredible story to share when someone asks me about it.
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Project III: Exploration of The Cruel Kid’s Table & Social Media’s Right Wing Pipeline
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Journal Writing II
by Viah N
I’ve been really busy this week. The other day I got a commission from a magician for a Prince style magenta men shirt with that ruffle placket. It’s quite ugly in my opinion, but hey, the invoice got paid fairly quickly. On a positive note, I completed the pattern–coincidentally, I was drafting a men’s shirt pattern for myself, and the magician shares the same measurement as my sloper. Thank God.
Today, I had a meeting with my geometry teacher to talk about my last quiz grade. I remember that night very well. Like I typically do, I chose the very last moment for me to do my assignment. Priorities. I had all of the time to do my work, but math is one of those things where I would rather complete every item on my bucket list than cut our paper snowflakes to post on a class Padlet.
I can feel myself getting more frustrated as I type about geometry, but I know that my frustrations are mostly directed at my hectic work schedule.
The anxiety inducing projects plopped onto my lap. My new boss wants to see me do chain stitch hems (even though I did a few already and at my previous job) and he’s only available on the two days that I’m not. How fun. Initially, I told my manager that I could come in today at 12 pm, until I realized that I have yet to purchase the magenta silk faille fabric for the magician… so, I told her that it wouldn’t be possible. She texted me back, letting me know that it’s okay, the boss just wants to see the way that I do it so he can have me do it his way. Every job knows what that means.
Anyways, I went to Mood to buy the fabric and notions…another problem. They don’t take Discover. I had used Stripe to do my invoice, and the payment wasn’t going to be sent to me until the 25th of this month, which is the same day the magician’s shirt is due. You can probably imagine my entire day being like a Larry David skit. Plan B, I went to B&J Fabrics to find a similar fabric. Good news, I found plenty that were very similar, but they were way too expensive for the budget I was given.
Just when I thought I was fresh out of luck, I came across a beautiful double silk crepe that went for 60 bucks a yard—it was perfect. I brought it to the cutter and requested 3.5 yards. Boom. They only had 1.25 yards and there was nothing remotely similar to it. I looked around the shop for an hour and came out with no luck and swatches for my other assignments.
I texted the magician about my dilemma:
“I am a broke college student, who hasn’t got the money to pay for the fabric and the Stripe is going to take a week to get my the funds :’)”
I didn’t say that, but my message felt like that.
I told him:
“Hey [magician man],
Things may not be running smoothly—I am having trouble getting the fabric. My Stripe account is limited because it’s a new account. I may have to refund you if I am unable to get the fabric.
Sorry I didn’t give you an update yesterday!”
Fortunately, I remembered that even magicians can be human and he replied:
“Can always cancel and send over paypal
Any backup ideas on fabric?
Happy to work out how to help unblock”
After his message I let him know more about the dilemma. I refunded his invoice on Stripe and sent him another invoice through PayPal. I should’ve done that originally, but hey, mistakes were made. Now we wait.
[End]