A Fresh Start

This is my entry for the Beat Girl competition. It is my first fan fiction attempt - so fingers crossed! :-D


1. Blank Canvas


(Amy’s POV)

A blank canvas – that’s all I had to work with. As a result of the government’s money crisis recently, the illusive green bill had not been safely clenched in my hands all year. So the modern, sparkling building which I had planned to be the launch pad of my dreams…in reality was a Soho studio in desperate need of TLC and a lick of paint.

Even my budget and Steve’s (friend and co-designer) combined, the sleek studio’s of England’s capitol were more than an arm’s reach away. Due to Heather’s resilience, perseverance and her exasperating ability to sway anything in her favour, I had been persuaded that this investment would soon pay for itself once it was up and running. Yet I think its management and restoring had been forgotten in the equation of fortune - as well as my luck.

Once again I pondered over the design proposals, while distraughtly pleading for a spark of inspiration to arrive. However, my mind seemed to be drained of creativity and colour, resembling one of the desert scenes from old western movies. Being a designer hot out of college, it usually did not take too much motivating or encouragement from my brain for a revelation of the next big selling design to alert myself to its presence. It seemed as if it was on the tip of my tongue, and I detested this feeling of helplessness, feeling as if I was almost there, but not quite.

A vague plan was assembling itself on paper, but I was aware of the difficulties in transforming it into reality. It was essential for it to scream: contemporary and modern, yet not sci-fi or robotic which has been revealed in a recent survey to repel 63% of potential shoppers. Not too mention that style is not particuarly to my taste; Steve's either. He preferred 1940's clothing which was his recent style and phase, that of which can be confirmed by his recent wardrobe decisions.


Meeting my future business partner at London's Design College was the starting point of my career, although I didn't realise it at the time. My eyes were just instantly drawn to the imposing figure who stood out effortlessly from the crowd. There was no hassle in travelling along the corridor for him, everyone appeared to suddenly gravitate towards the striking maroon lockers in their haste to not be in his path. This incident also formed a cloud of mystery around this student, which again appealed to my naturally inquisitive personality. That and the fact that he was responsible for the bruised eye he unknowingly gave me, when his wary onlookers pressed desperately against the walls with me inbetween.

Not particuarly growing fond of the other hopefuls who attended my other classes, I made the life changing decision to converse with him and find out more (my curiousity was responsible again) Without hesitation or desire to know his name, I asked him the question that would decide our future, depending on how he would answer, and I was pleasantly surprised.

‘Top three designers?’

With a brief glance and not a moments hesitation, he began. ‘Haider Ackermann, Dries Van Noten and Yohji Jamamoto.’

Unable to help it, I had allowed a content smile to twitch at the corners of my mouth. Without being aware of the fact that he had just ticked off the first three of my favourite designers, he had unwittingly earned himself a respectable place in my life that I was willing to offer.

One conversation led to another and before you knew it, Steve and I were inseperable, some even dared to joke that we were joined at the hip after they realised that underneath the imposing figure, Steve was just a big softie with a shared love of humour and design. Our bond continued to strengthen and in the blink of an eye, college was finished but our relationship wasn't. We agreed to team up and chose to run a studio together...contempory, modern yet cheap...and now you see my dilemma.


All I had was a blank canvas in front of me to work with. Then it dawned. A few hasty sketches later I had formed a plan on the recently cream page, which now seemed as if it had been dropped down a mine shaft. Innovative, flamboyant and characteristic, it was all I had dreamed of.

Soon to be a blank canvas no more, the studio now appeared promising in the now positive future. Watch out Charlotte Clarke because here comes Amy Tye, ready for the fashion week crown.

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