A year ago, Chloe Ayissi-Etoh didn’t know how to sew. But this spring, in a school auditorium packed with more than 900 people, the teen soaked in thunderous applause as a bona fide fashion designer.

In a red dress she’d finished perfecting just minutes earlier, Chloe followed models who’d walked the stage at Walter Johnson High School in Bethesda in nine looks from her first collection, under her brand chlolanà—a blend of her first name and middle name, Alana.

For Chloe, an eighth grader at the time, the fashion show was a major accomplishment. What made it even more impressive was that she’d had just four weeks to design, sew and fit the dresses, pants, shirts and corsets she’d sketched for various body types. The show was

Hinojosa was one of the five students chosen for the opportunity.

As a Gateway City native, Hinojosa has explored their culture and taste for music in efforts to craft several fashionwear items that have landed them an opportunity for their clothing to go international. The designs featured in the campaign are based on their memories from

Twenty dollars worth of newspapers and a vision were the only things local fashion designer Lashanda White-Owens needed to create a statement piece worthy of rivaling the most eccentric fashion icons.

Lady Gaga may have ridden into the 2013 American Music Awards on a fake white horse in a Versace dress, but even the fashion legend herself has never worn a dress made entirely of newspapers and tape.

White-Owens, a Noxubee County native, moved to Columbus in 2009. She briefly worked for a construction company before devoting herself to her husband, children and a passion for sewing.

“I have been sewing for six years now,” White-Owens said. “Two years ago, I got more serious about it and started making handmade fashion.”

As a young fashion designer with a knack for entrepreneurship, White-Owens opened her own business, Luxe Code by Shun White, in 2019.

With a new space to

It’s a problem straight from an early-aughts fashion magazine. You’re desperate for a Juicy Couture necklace—like, everyone at your school has one!—but your parents totally won’t go for it. Do you:

A. Give up—maybe they have a point about not needing expensive jewelry.
B. Resort to begging—your reputation is worth more than your dignity.
C. Take apart your Juicy key chain and turn it into a necklace—resourcefulness is next to coutureliness.

For Dan McLean, the decision was simple. She wore that key chain necklace until the Juicy logo wore off.

Now, the Seattle fashion designer makes money selling pieces born of that formative experience: random thrifted bags adorned with emblems from big fashion houses like Yves Saint Laurent; vintage button-downs cropped and enhanced with a Dior elastic waistband. She calls it “bootleg,” but these garments are a far cry from cheaply made, back-alley