MY PROJECT RUNWAY AUDITION
By Sarah Wheeler | October 24, 2011

It’s March 2006 and I see a commercial on TV: “Think you got what it takes?   Audition for Project Runway Season 4 now”….
I thought, could I possibly?  No.  Well, why the hell not?  Unfortunately I had already missed the LA auditions, so I had just about 3 days to come up with a small sample line of my creations and get my butt to New York!

Of course I couldn’t imagine being in the Big Apple for the first time all alone, so I invited my bff Denise Wetherell for support.  She had never been either, so we were very excited to head off on our little adventure!

For the audition, I had to come up with 3 complete outfits and it was suggested that we show them on live models.  I thought, where am I going to get models on this short of notice?  Denise quickly comes to the rescue with a brilliant plan,  “My husband Ken’s cousin Owen and his girlfriend Stefanie live in New York!  Why don’t you call them and see if they will model for you?”.  I wasted no time in making the call, introducing myself and obtaining their measurements. Of course, Denise graciously accepted the role as my third model.

I said, “Ok, let’s do it”!  I booked the flight and hotel reservations immediately and then began thinking of a concept for my line. I rummaged around my pile of “inspiration fabrics” (which all I had were mainly black, khaki and army green athletic fabrics that were samples I had rescued from the Nike recycler bin)…until it hit me.  I’ll call my brand “WAR” or “Wheeler Apparel Research”.  My friend Dan was of huge help in brainstorming this vision with me.  It would be sort of a para military style kick ass line for men and women.  Clothes for everyday battle, but that you can also rock the nightclubs with.

I began to design, pattern make and sew.  The line would consist of a dress, a pair of leggings to with it, another women’s blouse/pant outfit and a men’s sweatshirt/pant outfit.  Wow, a lot of work for two days, which I thought I’d be able to complete.  But no.  The day of our flight arrived and I wasn’t even halfway done with my clothes.  What am I going to do?  I contemplated canceling the flight and waiting until the following year to audition when I had more time to put something together.  I must have gone back and forth with Denise and Dan several times asking them…”what do you think?”  Finally, and I don’t know who came up with this crazy idea, but we decided that I could take my mom’s old portable (yet very heavy) singer sewing machine, plus all my fabric and notions to New York with me and finish there before the day of the Audition!

There we were, running through the gates, only to be stopped for a while so Security could inspect my sewing machine to make sure it wasn’t a bomb.  Man that thing was heavy.  I remember we were on layover in the Las Vegas airport.  I was sweating, tired, achy and all of a sudden felt really sick.  Of course it was cramps.  Perfect timing.  I remember for some reason having to run for the plane and I’m in so much pain, carrying my suitcase, sewing machine and purse I didn’t think I was going to make it.  We made it to our seats, just in time for my full-blown panic attack to set in.  I hated flying ever since 911.  I took a Xanax and everything was smooth sailing.  Until we landed in New York.

It was about 1am or so and our taxi that was promised as booked through the travel company was definitely not there waiting for us.  Here Denise and I are, stranded at the airport, in a huge, dark city, with a bunch of strangers coming up to us asking if we needed a ride.  Who to trust?  I remember someone else saying, “no, don’t go with them….look for a Yellow Cab”.

Not more than a few minutes later, we were being whisked via taxi through the darkest, scariest, slum of a neighborhood I think I’ve only ever seen in the movies.  The cabbie didn’t speak to us either.  He was pretty quiet, but I don’t know if that’s because English wasn’t his first language or what.  I just remember Denise and I trying to ask him where we were and getting no answer.  All we heard was the word “shortcut”.  He was driving so fast and Denise and I were being jostled left and right.  We both gave each other that look like, “ok, I think we’re in trouble. How are we going to get out of this cab right now?!”  Of course that was just my imagination running wild.  Come to find out later, Denise wasn’t scared, just me!  We made it to the hotel safely and I was quite relieved.

We were staying in one of the best-rated hotels in Times Square, so that was very exciting.  We went up to our room and were just famished.  Denise had planned all our food for us, since we knew it would be too expensive to eat out every day in NYC.  She had packed us some nice organic instant soup and all we had to do was add hot water.  That’s when we found out the room’s coffeemaker was broken.  It was our only hope for drinkable hot water for soup.  We went down to the lobby to complain to the concierge about our broken coffee pot and when he said we’d have to pay a charge of $20 bucks or something ridiculous like that for a new one, I said no way.  We asked for the Manager and had to tell him how lame it was that we are paying such and such a night to stay in their 4 star hotel (or whatever it was) and demanded a working coffeepot!

After our soup at about 2:30am, we hit the hay.  I got up bright and early the next morning and knew I had the entire day to finish my outfits.  I used my bed to lay out all my patterns on the fabric and do all the cutting.  I set up my mom’s little sewing machine that she had given me on the tiny little night table in the corner of the tiny room, right in front of the big window with the lovely brick wall view.  I sewed all day and day turned quickly into night.

I took but one or two 15 minute breaks the entire time as Denise kept me alive by dropping small “berry blast nuggets” into my open mouth in between seams.  My cramps were getting worse and my back was in so much pain.  I just wanted to be done and go to bed, but being the perfectionist I am, I took my time to get the final pair of men’s pants done right.  Man I don’t like pants!

I finally had to send poor Denise out on a “feminine hygiene” run and she bravely went out into Times Square for the first time, alone, at night, with no clue as to where the next convenience store was.  But she succeeded.  I was so happy to when she returned.  It seemed like she was out there forever.  I didn’t have a cell phone at the time, so there was no way of keeping in touch.  I don’t even remember the stupid room having a phone.

The auditions were to be held at 8am the next morning, and so our plan was to try and get into line as early as possible.  Like 6am.  It was already 4am and I still wasn’t finished with those darn pants.  Plus, I still had to show the sketches of my work and didn’t want to show my chicken scratches.  I wanted to present the judges with the best work possible.  At this point, it would do no good to try and get any sleep, so we both decided to make it an all nighter.   Denise, being the wonderful artist she is, helped me out with my sketches.  She traced the croquis I had designed onto the presentation board.  I then sketched all the clothes onto the croquis and she used my watercolor crayons to paint them in based on the finished garments.   She also helped put together my swatch boards while I finished Owen’s pants.

I really loved how easy and quick it was to hail a cab in New York City.  We arrived at the Macy’s building around 8am only to find the line already 2 city blocks long.  My two other models Owen and Stephanie showed up exactly on time and barring hot coffee and muffins.  They were wonderful, nice people and we got a long great.  I remember it was freezing outside.  My hands could barely hold the pen I used to fill out the 10 page long audition paperwork while waiting in line.  I remember being really inspired by all the creative designers around me.  There were some amazing gowns that this one girl in front of me had made and I just remember thinking to myself, boy, I think I totally missed the mark.  My garments weren’t nearly as elaborate as those I saw around me.  Then again, they probably didn’t give themselves only 3 days and hotel sewing room setup to make their creations.  So I decided to give myself a break.  Besides, what’s done is done.

It must have been about 10am when we finally made it inside the front door of the building.  I remember thinking, yes!  The line is now moving!  And it would move a few inches and stop.  But at least now we were warm.  I thought, ok, it should be any time now that we get to the audition room.   We had slowly found our way upstairs and were standing in line right outside of the restrooms, where a lot of the models were going in to put on their outfits.  So I gave Stefanie and Owen their clothes so they could go change.  (Denise was already wearing her outfit).  I did a quick fit assessment and to my astonishment, the pants and sweatshirt fit Owen to a tee!  Stefanie looked great too.  The leggings fit perfectly, but the dress was every so slightly loose. It didn’t matter though, because it was a knit dress and was supposed to look relaxed.  It cinched up nicely with the killer black leather, highly heavy metal embellished belt around her hips.  (I really wish I could find the photos).  I had made the belt at my first job “Details by Patricia Green”.  Stefanie wanted to keep it, but said no way.  It was my special belt.  A one-of-a-kind belt that you would never be able to find anywhere else, ever!  I had also brought with me a few hats and caps that I had made while I was at Nike to compliment the outfits, giving them a more urban feel.  I let each model keep his/her hat as a thank you after the auditions were over and they loved them.

Stefanie was quite a character.  I loved her.  She had that really brash New York attitude.  Very confident and says what’s on her mind with no regrets.  I remember her very colorful language…”How long are they making us stay in the f’ing line”..F, man, I need an f’ing cocktail!”.  I’ll be back, I need to go have an f’ing smoke!”…”Ok no problem!”  I said.  “We’ll still be here”.

About six or so hours later, we finally made it around the next corner of the building to what looked like the final holding area.  Sections were roped off now.  Some people were storming out of the room in anger, which I could only assume meant they didn’t make the cut.  I remember one guy (or maybe it was a girl), stomping by in big black doc martins wearing a trash bag and lots of makeup, saying, “what a bunch of -----, this and that and they don’t know what they’re talking about, bleepity bleep bleep”…all the way down the hall.

Now what I didn’t know was that I had to actually audition to get into the audition.  I presented my portfolio, models and story to a man sitting at a table at the end of the line.  I remember him complimenting me on having thought of the marketing behind my line with hangtags and everything.  He said, ok you can go through.  I was thrilled and so nervous.  What did that mean?  The next thing I knew I was being fitted with a wire with a microphone on it.  A lady with a headset whispered quietly, “Sarah?”  I said, “yeah?”  She said, “this way”.  She had me and my models escorted down another hall and we waited outside the door quietly.  I had no idea what was about to happen.  She then said, “Sarah, when get inside, step to the center of the room, don’t approach the judges and don’t say anything until you are asked”.

My heart must have skipped a beat and I could already feel the blood rush to my face as the door opened and I walked slowly into a dark room with my nervous models right behind me.  I got to the center of the room and then WHOOSE!  Huge bright camera lights shot me in the face and there before me at a long horizontal table was Tim Gunn in the flesh, Season 2 Runner up Daniel Vosovic (cute), and about 3 other people that I didn’t recognize.  Tim asked to see my portfolio, so I walked up with knees shaking and handed it to him.  All I can remember was him saying “wow, it’s big”.  I thought to myself immediately, oh no, is that a problem?  I went back to the x marks the spot in front of my models and then the questions came.  One right after another.  It seemed as if the entire interview took all of about 30 seconds, which was disappointing after spending 9 hours in line to get in.  I had forgotten almost everything I wanted to say out of sheer nervousness.  Public speaking was never my forte.  Plus, I was being asked one question right after another without being given a chance to answer any of them.  All the judges were overlapping each other and I didn’t know whom to answer first.  It was painful.  I was terrified.  Especially of this one woman who Denise, Owen, Stefanie and myself all agreed afterwards was a huge bitch.  In hindsight I should have just shouted out, “may I please answer the first question first?!!!”  But oh well. In the end it was the best I could do under the circumstances and Mr. Gunn wrapped things up with a neat and tidy, polite, “Well, Sarah, I’m sorry, you’re just not what we’re looking for”.

I said, “ok, thank you” and bolted.

It was 5pm, time for cocktails!  We all ran down to the bar on the first floor and celebrated the day being OVER!  I couldn’t believe what I had just done.  But I did it.  I don’t think I’ve ever felt that high before.  I spent the next couple of days gallivanting around NYC with my bff.  We saw Union Station, went to the top of the Empire State building, visited Ground Zero, walked all over Times Square, saw the street artists, looked at souvenirs, and of course bought a slice of New York Pizza AND cheesecake.

I had the time of my life and I’ll never forget this experience.

THE END
:)

(Fyi…for those of you who are curious, the winner of Project Runway Season 4 was Christian Siriano!)