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Fit that flatters

Fit that flatters

Isabella Miscisco is drawing new threads of confidence through her fashion designs, Seren Stevens writes.
To say Isabella Miscisco's art form is woven around people seems an obvious statement at first glance. Her pieces speak of the model and their beauty first, and the clothing second. The lengths of thread she uses can represent the wearer's self-consciousness; the wool itself is a nod to the people she has met along the way.
Miscisco's life is an array of avocations, ranging from cherry picking to the gym, to volunteering and working in student-led governance. And while undertaking full-time study at the University of Otago, she is also in the midst of creating her own brand of sustainable, people-focused fashion.
The clothes she designs are glamorous, bold, and feminine. And the unique hook is that they are all made from locally sourced wool, which Miscisco handspins herself and then crochets.
On an unusually warm Friday afternoon, Miscisco makes time for an interview about her fashion line, Cisco Bella. She arrives wearing a Snoopy T-shirt she thrifted the night before at a university market, now part of a very colour co-ordinated outfit. She has tortoiseshell glasses that accentuate her hazel eyes and curly hair, underneath which is a cheeky smile.
When asked why she began her brand, the designer doesn't hesitate — it's clear she is passionate about her work, and knows exactly why she does it.
"A huge reason why I started creating my own clothes was because I just did not fit Glassons, or Cotton On, or any of the easy-access stuff we find in New Zealand. Either my thighs were too big, or my arms were too wide".
With an ease that comes only from unfeigned individuality, she explains that although people wouldn't assume she faces that issue, it was an overwhelming factor in how she felt about herself.
"I didn't feel like I could be someone who complained about that sort of stuff, but I was having that issue with all clothes."
So, she began making her own clothes or altering items herself.
"It just brought so much more confidence back into my life. Instead of going to the gym so that I could fit into clothes, I was going to the gym so that I could just have a good day afterwards."
An early creation was her high school ball dress, which she crocheted entirely by hand. From there, her creations evolved into a fashion line, through which she has won several awards in fashion shows, including emerging designer and glamour categories at Wool On. Her work has also been accepted into several national fashion shows, Āhua Fashion Week a favourite.
Miscisco knows the issue of ill-fitting clothes isn't new. Based on her own experience, she knows the importance of feeling as though your clothes are designed for you, not for the checkbox figures that bulldoze fast fashion forwards.
She explains that the small, medium and large of fast fashion can't realistically cater for the range of body types and combinations of proportions that real people have. Despite being so young, Miscisco was never taken in by the deceiftul myth the fast fashion industry has fabricated; that you should alter your body to fit the clothes, rather than alter the clothes to fit your body.
The designer knows this issue can be addressed. To create a positive change, Miscisco has the idea of "fit and flatter" woven into all of her work.
"Less in the sense of size inclusive, but confidence invoking."
She has already seen how much impact it can make, and how removing the labels and numerical measurements can entirely change someone's self-confidence and body image.
"Recently, I was working with a friend to try to figure out how I could create without measurements. We came up with using yarn and just shaping it around the person; it wasn't numbers."
Her hazel eyes are full of passion as she recounts the meaningfulness of the moment, her tone becoming more animated.
"And when we actually laid out the pieces and looked at the different lengths of everything, her mindset about herself just changed. There's certain parts of herself that she wasn't so confident about, or that she would be really embarrassed about, and when she saw them laid out like this and not in numbers it changed the way she thought about it. And it was quite cool to see a little thing like that."
Miscisco was raised in Cromwell, where her community has been a vital part of her work. After being taught to knit by her grandma, Miscisco reached out to women within her community to further her skills.
"What I'm realising now is that wool is providing an avenue for me to connect with people. Sometimes when the wool stuff's not working as well as I want it to, I think of the connections with people that I'm making through it."
After attempting to teach herself to spin wool for more than a year, she finally asked a Cromwell local who runs a wool-dyeing business, she explains. With her help, gradually Miscisco learned the art.
"There are many people on the way from Cromwell to Dunedin that I'll stop in to see and have a chat and learn the tools and tricks, but also talk about older generation stuff and younger generation stuff."
She speaks warmly of a blind woman in Cromwell who helped her finesse wool spinning, who she now catches up with often to show her work.
The close-knit community has also allowed Miscisco's work to transition naturally into a sustainable venture. Recently, her grandma went with her to a wool fibre festival where she bought locally sourced alpaca wool. The vendors each had information on their farm history and land, meaning you could trace the fibres back to their origins.
"I could place it back to the exact alpaca. So, it's cool to think you know the thing that's making it, and the grass that's feeding it."
However, the designer is well aware that "sustainability" means more than using locally sourced fibres. She focuses on creating pieces that are adaptable enough to be staples in a wardrobe even as fashions change. Additionally, she is constantly thinking about how handmade pieces can be affordable to "everyday Joes", especially in the context of personalised clothing. But, the other half of that balancing act is being careful not to exploit herself.
"Lots of people who make their own stuff take away a lot of [the potential for] profit from themselves, or don't pay themselves, because they're just wanting to get their name out there. But that's not very sustainable."
Over the next six months, Miscisco will spend her free time spinning, dyeing and crocheting wool for a new five-piece collection that will be showcased in December, in a KAM Models show in Auckland. Although the glittery and glamorous night is months away, Miscisco says the entire process is a highlight. "Applying for shows and finding out you can put your work in is a huge high. It's a cool dream and thread you get a chase."
And yet, it's not the spotlight that motivates her.
"Something I bond with my grandma about a lot is my fashion. So, I love telling her the next new thing, or show, that's a huge high in itself."
Between the bright lights and excitement, there are a low points. Miscisco explains that balancing study, a part-time job and fashion is difficult in many ways; finding enough hours in the day is hard, but so is taking the risk of investing her time.
"Societally, committing all to fashion isn't a safe route. So, I guess maybe the hardest part for me is maybe believing in myself that I can do it."
However, despite being early in her career, Miscisco has already seen many opportunities come her way as a result of her dedication and passion. From winning awards against competitors who have been in the industry for years, to earning places in brand workshops and entrepreneur programmes, she is making her mark. In the future, she would "absolutely love" for Cisco Bella to expand and become a fulltime job.
It's inspiring to see the seeds of change being sewn into the fashion industry, as the ubiquitous shroud of fast-fashion myth begins to fray. Young designers like Miscisco are reimagining how people can relate not only to fashion, but also to themselves.
"If more little things like that keep happening," she says, "what will we see in the future?"
Seren Stevens is a University of Otago humanities intern with The Weekend Mix.

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Fit that flatters
Fit that flatters

Otago Daily Times

timea day ago

  • Otago Daily Times

Fit that flatters

Isabella Miscisco is drawing new threads of confidence through her fashion designs, Seren Stevens writes. To say Isabella Miscisco's art form is woven around people seems an obvious statement at first glance. Her pieces speak of the model and their beauty first, and the clothing second. The lengths of thread she uses can represent the wearer's self-consciousness; the wool itself is a nod to the people she has met along the way. Miscisco's life is an array of avocations, ranging from cherry picking to the gym, to volunteering and working in student-led governance. And while undertaking full-time study at the University of Otago, she is also in the midst of creating her own brand of sustainable, people-focused fashion. The clothes she designs are glamorous, bold, and feminine. And the unique hook is that they are all made from locally sourced wool, which Miscisco handspins herself and then crochets. On an unusually warm Friday afternoon, Miscisco makes time for an interview about her fashion line, Cisco Bella. She arrives wearing a Snoopy T-shirt she thrifted the night before at a university market, now part of a very colour co-ordinated outfit. She has tortoiseshell glasses that accentuate her hazel eyes and curly hair, underneath which is a cheeky smile. When asked why she began her brand, the designer doesn't hesitate — it's clear she is passionate about her work, and knows exactly why she does it. "A huge reason why I started creating my own clothes was because I just did not fit Glassons, or Cotton On, or any of the easy-access stuff we find in New Zealand. Either my thighs were too big, or my arms were too wide". With an ease that comes only from unfeigned individuality, she explains that although people wouldn't assume she faces that issue, it was an overwhelming factor in how she felt about herself. "I didn't feel like I could be someone who complained about that sort of stuff, but I was having that issue with all clothes." So, she began making her own clothes or altering items herself. "It just brought so much more confidence back into my life. Instead of going to the gym so that I could fit into clothes, I was going to the gym so that I could just have a good day afterwards." An early creation was her high school ball dress, which she crocheted entirely by hand. From there, her creations evolved into a fashion line, through which she has won several awards in fashion shows, including emerging designer and glamour categories at Wool On. Her work has also been accepted into several national fashion shows, Āhua Fashion Week a favourite. Miscisco knows the issue of ill-fitting clothes isn't new. Based on her own experience, she knows the importance of feeling as though your clothes are designed for you, not for the checkbox figures that bulldoze fast fashion forwards. She explains that the small, medium and large of fast fashion can't realistically cater for the range of body types and combinations of proportions that real people have. Despite being so young, Miscisco was never taken in by the deceiftul myth the fast fashion industry has fabricated; that you should alter your body to fit the clothes, rather than alter the clothes to fit your body. The designer knows this issue can be addressed. To create a positive change, Miscisco has the idea of "fit and flatter" woven into all of her work. "Less in the sense of size inclusive, but confidence invoking." She has already seen how much impact it can make, and how removing the labels and numerical measurements can entirely change someone's self-confidence and body image. "Recently, I was working with a friend to try to figure out how I could create without measurements. We came up with using yarn and just shaping it around the person; it wasn't numbers." Her hazel eyes are full of passion as she recounts the meaningfulness of the moment, her tone becoming more animated. "And when we actually laid out the pieces and looked at the different lengths of everything, her mindset about herself just changed. There's certain parts of herself that she wasn't so confident about, or that she would be really embarrassed about, and when she saw them laid out like this and not in numbers it changed the way she thought about it. And it was quite cool to see a little thing like that." Miscisco was raised in Cromwell, where her community has been a vital part of her work. After being taught to knit by her grandma, Miscisco reached out to women within her community to further her skills. "What I'm realising now is that wool is providing an avenue for me to connect with people. Sometimes when the wool stuff's not working as well as I want it to, I think of the connections with people that I'm making through it." After attempting to teach herself to spin wool for more than a year, she finally asked a Cromwell local who runs a wool-dyeing business, she explains. With her help, gradually Miscisco learned the art. "There are many people on the way from Cromwell to Dunedin that I'll stop in to see and have a chat and learn the tools and tricks, but also talk about older generation stuff and younger generation stuff." She speaks warmly of a blind woman in Cromwell who helped her finesse wool spinning, who she now catches up with often to show her work. The close-knit community has also allowed Miscisco's work to transition naturally into a sustainable venture. Recently, her grandma went with her to a wool fibre festival where she bought locally sourced alpaca wool. The vendors each had information on their farm history and land, meaning you could trace the fibres back to their origins. "I could place it back to the exact alpaca. So, it's cool to think you know the thing that's making it, and the grass that's feeding it." However, the designer is well aware that "sustainability" means more than using locally sourced fibres. She focuses on creating pieces that are adaptable enough to be staples in a wardrobe even as fashions change. Additionally, she is constantly thinking about how handmade pieces can be affordable to "everyday Joes", especially in the context of personalised clothing. But, the other half of that balancing act is being careful not to exploit herself. "Lots of people who make their own stuff take away a lot of [the potential for] profit from themselves, or don't pay themselves, because they're just wanting to get their name out there. But that's not very sustainable." Over the next six months, Miscisco will spend her free time spinning, dyeing and crocheting wool for a new five-piece collection that will be showcased in December, in a KAM Models show in Auckland. Although the glittery and glamorous night is months away, Miscisco says the entire process is a highlight. "Applying for shows and finding out you can put your work in is a huge high. It's a cool dream and thread you get a chase." And yet, it's not the spotlight that motivates her. "Something I bond with my grandma about a lot is my fashion. So, I love telling her the next new thing, or show, that's a huge high in itself." Between the bright lights and excitement, there are a low points. Miscisco explains that balancing study, a part-time job and fashion is difficult in many ways; finding enough hours in the day is hard, but so is taking the risk of investing her time. "Societally, committing all to fashion isn't a safe route. So, I guess maybe the hardest part for me is maybe believing in myself that I can do it." However, despite being early in her career, Miscisco has already seen many opportunities come her way as a result of her dedication and passion. From winning awards against competitors who have been in the industry for years, to earning places in brand workshops and entrepreneur programmes, she is making her mark. In the future, she would "absolutely love" for Cisco Bella to expand and become a fulltime job. It's inspiring to see the seeds of change being sewn into the fashion industry, as the ubiquitous shroud of fast-fashion myth begins to fray. Young designers like Miscisco are reimagining how people can relate not only to fashion, but also to themselves. "If more little things like that keep happening," she says, "what will we see in the future?" Seren Stevens is a University of Otago humanities intern with The Weekend Mix.

Invasion of the red tide
Invasion of the red tide

Otago Daily Times

time3 days ago

  • Otago Daily Times

Invasion of the red tide

As climate change is the big issue of the day, there is plenty of scope for Dr Octavia Cade's brand of science fiction writing. Rebecca Fox talks to this year's Robert Burns Fellow. A toxic algae bloom is creeping up Otago Harbour, smothering everything in its path. Do you race down to the harbour to see it for yourself or shrug it off as just one of those things? Kerikeri writer Dr Octavia Cade is fascinated by the ways people could react to the scenario and interact with the environment. "So there's this plethora of strange and fascinating possible reactions." So much so the scenario forms the basis for a science fiction novel and a research paper she is writing this year while the Robert Burns Fellow at the University of Otago. "They've all gone a bit barmy, my characters. But it's fun. If you're into science fiction as I am, and you've been reading New Zealand science fiction from when you were a kid, there's a surprising amount of it that really looks at what do we do with an invasive species once it gets to New Zealand." Algae blooms are becoming more common in New Zealand summers with warming waters and nitrate run-off impacting waterways. It makes the perfect villain for Cade's preferred "near-future" writing style. "There are some really strange and interesting side effects [from it]." Even Under the Mountain by Cade's favourite author from childhood, Maurice Gee, has its invasive species. "The invasive species there was obviously the Wilberforces. They horrified me as a child, but as I grew up, and I keep reading it, because I do read it on a fairly regular basis, the solution to it is pretty damn horrifying, if you think about it. The solution to ecological invasion in the Wilberforces is for children to commit genocide." Cade grew up in Nelson and used to live across the road from the botanical gardens where Gee's The World Around the Corner is set. "So I would run up, well, I would play on the mountain pretending to be Caroline, who was the hero of that book." Her love of science fiction developed in childhood thanks to her mother who made sure she and her sister watched Star Trek . "So we're both sci-fi fans from way back so when I started writing, it was going to be science ficition rather than anything else." But it took time before Cade embraced writing as she planned to be a scientist. She came to Dunedin to study botany but soon discovered she "really hated" the way scientists were trained to write and the language of scientific papers. "The idea behind this is that the writing is as efficient as possible and can be read by other scientists working in your field. The downside of that is that it blocks everyone else out." As she was finishing her scientific studies, the Centre for Scientific Communication was starting up and gave her hope of another way. "That was the genesis for the shift, the sheer disgust of the scientific paper. I think at the time I remember there was a bit of a kerfuffle, it was one of the national journals in sciences, and it was supposed to be revolutionary that they were moving in their methods from third person to first person. I thought, God, do I really want to be reading and writing this for the rest of my professional life?" The move to science communication (the programme has since been cut) was an excellent move for Cade who has since completed her PhD in science communication and discovered she could turn her "fun" short-story writing hobby into something more. Back then she was writing more generic science fiction featuring vampires and other more usual genre characters. "But I wasn't very good at writing them. It turned out what I was quite good at writing about was plants and animals and how people react with nature and how we talk about science. And so once I started writing, they say write what you know, and eventually I started listening." It turned out to be good advice and her stories began to do well. "So I started writing science fiction as a way to communicate science, basically. And it sort of took off from there. So yes, the scientific paper is responsible for my career writing novels about algal blooms." After helping her marine biologist father as a child she knew marine biology was not as glamorous as it sounded. "It was standing in freezing cold warehouses holding clipboards while he dissected fish. And so I thought, I don't want anything to do with marine biology on any level." But a compulsory marine botany paper turned out to be more interesting than she expected. And down the line it has ended up producing a story about algae blooms. She has discovered a real fascination for the blooms, imagining a bright red harbour and people going slowly "doolally" around it after injesting food affected by it. "With algae, the colour and how toxic it is, how poisonous, how it smothers everything in the harbour. I mean, imagine an albatross trying to float in that or a seal. It sort of kills everything and you can't go swimming. It affects all the water sources, it sort of spreads. It's like this little contagion. "And the fascinating thing about algae blooms is really we have a decent idea how to stop them. You know, we've got to control runoff and all sorts of things, but we often don't." So while she no longer writes purely scientific papers, she continues to read a lot of them — for inspiration. "When I see something particularly weird or disgusting happening in the animal world, I "favourite" the page and then shove it in my story ideas file." Her first novel The Stone Wētā , published in 2020 and expanded from a short story written in 2016, came about after she read how scientists during Donald Trump's first term as United States president were working across borders to store climate data and information as they were concerned about censorship. The short story had been picked up by one of the top international science fiction publications Clarkesworld Magazine . "I was thinking, well, this sounds like something people should be talking about more than they are. And so that's where a lot of my stories come from, actual interesting bits of science. And I was able to include a lot of weird stuff in that book." Still really liking the concept, Cade developed it into an adult novel and it won the Sir Julius Vogel Award for best novel. Another news article she has bookmarked is of the fishscale gecko, which sheds its scales and "skitters off looking like raw chicken breast". "The pictures of this thing are revolting and fascinating. And I just love that anything weird and disgusting that can be used as colour." Cade believes each writer has their own natural length. Hers is short stories — she has had about 70 published to date around the world — so writing a novel is more of a challenge. "It's one of the advantages of the Burns. You get space to upskill in your creative practice." She sees her short stories as being part of a long historical and cultural tradition of short story writing in New Zealand with New Zealand children growing up on authors like Katherine Mansfield, Janet Frame, Patricia Grace and Owen Marshall's work. "I just love them. I love how short stories require different things from readers and writers. You cannot, because you've got such a limited word count, you can't go explaining everything. You can't really go down sidetracks and wander. You've got to be very economical with your storytelling. And you have to trust that the reader can follow along. And I quite like that. "Whenever I try to write a novel, I often feel like I'm putting in all this waffle. But you can't write a novel like you're writing a short story." Cade remembers her first day in the Robert Burns fellow's office sitting staring at her computer. "For nearly the entire day, I stared sort of frozen in terror at this blank screen because they'd given me the opportunity and I'd been expected to produce something, something good." She gave herself a good talking to that night and the next day began to write. But she still feels slightly intimiated by the list of top New Zealand writers that have gone before her. "I have a bucket list, you see, of writing opportunities that I would like to apply for. And I've been quite lucky in getting them, but it is a luck that has been very much underpinned by a lot of hard work." She has applied for the Burns fellowship and others many times before, seeing each application as practise developing her application skills and learning from the rejections and comments she receives. "I mean, if you are in the creative sector, you have to have a very thick skin when it comes to rejection. A lot of it is luck, but a lot of it is hard work and not taking yourself too seriously. It's never nice having a story rejection or a novel rejection or a residency rejection. But if you are going to work in this industry, you need to learn to suck it up. And it's all part of the learning process, I suppose, in the end." These days her other "hobby", academic writing, has also become more of a focus as she became aware that it is an advantage to have a list of academic papers to her name when applying for residencies. "I don't get paid for academic writing but there is a cachet there and it is an investment." But it is also an excuse for her to indulge some of her passions such as a love of horror movies — a side effect of growing up on science fiction and her love of Under the Mountain . "The terror I spent lying awake at night thinking about the Wilberforces, you know, sludging at the window the way they did to the twins. There was something fascinating about that. So that was my gateway drug for horror." So writing papers about something she has seen in a horror film gives her an excuse to watch more of them. One of the papers she is working on is an academic collection coming out called "Sharksploitation, Shark Horror Films in the 21st Century". She is writing a chapter looking at urban shark films, things like "Under Paris" and "Bait", when sharks come into the cities. She finds urban ecology very interesting, especially the way people react to it when they see wildlife in places they do not expect to see it. "Because these are issues that are happening all around the world. I mean, in Colorado, I've written papers before on animal horror films, you know, giant sharks and crocodiles and so on. And they're kind of problems in wildlife management. "I think there's something very interesting that horror films are contributing to this sort of ongoing discussion. Because they remind us that, you know, we're not just existing outside of a food web." Cade is enjoying being back in Dunedin and revisiting all the places she remembers from her university days. "It's a great place if you want to write books or learn about nature, because you have the albatross and the sea lions and the penguins and Orokonui's just over there. There's so much scope for creativity." She was gutted to learn recently that the Frances Hodgkins and Mozart fellowships had been put on hold for a year given the benefits the fellowships have for creatives of all types.

Forgotten items fuel for win
Forgotten items fuel for win

Otago Daily Times

time26-05-2025

  • Otago Daily Times

Forgotten items fuel for win

Ava Reid. PHOTO: SUPPLIED A Katy Perry perfume, mealworms and some confetti from a gender reveal party proved to be all the inspiration a Dunedin woman needed to write an award-winning essay. Ava Reid, 20, won this year's Landfall Young Writers' Essay Competition for an essay she wrote after wondering about objects people left behind at a cafe where she worked. Miss Reid said did not expect to win the competition and was "very surprised". She said her flatmate, who was also a writer, had encouraged her to give it a go. Her winning essay, Two and a Half Mealworms was a collection of reflections and observations from people-watching. "My essay explores the material traces left behind as we move through the world, and the tension at the boundary of public and private looking practices. "I found that time can warp what is deemed 'acceptable' to look at." As an anthropology major at the University of Otago, Ms Reid wanted to understand the difference between the really old objects that were dug up in the field and the random things that were left behind at a cafe. She said someone once left behind two and a-half mealworms on a high chair she was cleaning and she immediately had questions about why they were there. "I feel someone had intentionally bought them in to feed their child." Rather than drawing conclusions about what the objects said about the culture, she was interested in what stories may come about them in the future. She said there was probably no way of knowing what those objects said about society, but people loved to tell stories. "We can't really influence what people are going to think of us." Her essay-writing skills were one of the biggest takeaways for her from her studies. "That's an unintended benefit of that course," she said. "I'm also really into poetry writing, but I think that my degree has helped me a lot more with formal writing."

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