contributed by Angela Sanders [aspiring architect / fashionista / cultural commentator]
In the wake of the recent bombings of London, and the fact that at least two of those tube lines were traveled regularly by myself, I am certainly still in favor of my experience at Central Saint Martins. Do I feel queasy just thinking about all of the individuals that use the transit system? Yes, but then I think about my experience. It was truly Brady-level groovy. We all know that they were happy all the live long day, or at least at the end of the half hour reruns I used to watch. So just picture my blissy lifestyle. Go on, picture it. Now let’s talk school. Christmas School.
Shopping Around How did I find Central Saint Martins (CSM) you ask? Thanks for asking, first and foremost. To answer your question, I would like to give attention to how shopping serves more than just the immediate need to acquire. Many times it leads to educational experiences. Okay, well not many, as in crowds of educational experiences, more like a few or just one. Right, as I was saying… Shopping can be educational. During one particular educational shopping experience, I found myself on the TopShop website. Every season they have a new batch of designers. They list them all, as well as their bios. Me, being the lost soul searching for an industry to cling onto for dear life, I read them. Consistently, I found CSM to be THE escuela of choice. Some went to other well-known American institutions, but I took a fancy to CSM. Then my friends Stella McCartney and Alexander McQueen and many of my other buds that I’ve met through Vogue and InStyle attended CSM. So now that my interest was peaked, I asked Google to help me find the school’s website, and I clicked and read to my heart’s delight. Then I requested tons of information via mail. Airmail. Schmancy, I know.
Prep Time The information came, and I discovered the Short Courses. These particular courses corresponded to the American breaks given at institutions. I chose Christmas school for my Introduction to Interior Design course. No scary Santa Claus included. Then I began to do the normal research regarding housing and payment and application. Wait, there is no application. Just registration. All you do is pay and register, or register and pay. Both must be done at once. I was a bit wary of paying online, but then I clicked on the site and found an American office with a toll-free number that provided further information. Let’s not forget trying to call the school office when they were actually open. That whole six–seven hour time difference is so annoying. After all the calls and obsessive-compulsive confirmations, I paid and registered (in that order). Wooohoooo, I’m going to London baybbeeeee! But wait, I need supplies. Metric supplies. Weird thing is, the class is in Imperial London, but they are on the metric system. Americans are still grasping to the Imperial system for dear life, while the rest of the semi-free world measures in metric. Go figure. That’s progress. I’m a bit olive-green regarding design supplies, so a set-square and A4 made no sense to me. Apparently the art store employees were a bit baffled as well. For the record, a set-square is NOT A SQUARE . The terminology changes were a minor setback because I had decided that my instructor had all the knowledge I required. Was I right, or was I right? He had more than knowledge, he had supplies. The preparation saga continues so I’m at the doctor’s office getting my immunizations and... .Just kidding. Not at all that serious. Ticket was purchased. FYI, do not pay over $400 for a coach-assigned airline semi-cush transatlantic flight.
Jolly Ole Oh sorry, I forgot to tell you about all of my first day. I wake up. Smell the lovely food of the Heatherbank B&B, get dressed, smash the ham and croissant together and begin on my journey. I resided in North London (Finchley) and took the Tube to school with only one stop. At home I had purchased a travel card from the RailEurope site that encompassed seven days, including buses and tubes. That’s also where I bought my round-trip train ticket to Paris . About 30, maybe 40 minutes later, I’m at school. The building is quite old and interesting. There’s a winding staircase that begins on the first floor. Nope make that zero (as if people – normal people – count from zero). My class schedule SAYS it’s on the third floor. It’s on the fourth. I remember because the pretty, winding steps were kicking my lazy butt. No elevator. Right before I get to the fourth/third floor, my instructor comes whizzing past and informs me that the railing is loose. He saves me from falling four/three flights through the hole that people normally fall through in the movies. Naturally, he’s my favorite person from that day forward. Uggo Passin. That’s his moniker. An Italian with an Itali-English accent. I really didn’t need to understand my assignment. He saved my life. What more could I ask? 
The class is a wide open white-walled, chilly space. There are eleven students in all. There is one other American. He’s from California . That’s all I’ll say. Well, he’s nice. And now, that’s all I’ll say. The whole set-square/A4 paper conspiracy becomes clear in the first 45 minutes. Gold star for Uggo.
Groups are formed. I get the stylish, non-pretentious, 3-D English chick who works with a local design firm, and a conventional Malaysian female physician. Anyhoo, we are given a project of designing a Victorian flat for a couple that we create. I totally rally for at least one of the spouses to be American. How can I design for a British couple? They don’t believe in closets! That’s just not an option. Ugggh! With that hurdle hopped, it’s just smooth sailing. Well, sort of. The process was smooth-ish. Could have been smoother. I had this issue with elevation. I couldn’t comprehend it in a drawing exercise until, like, Day 4. The couple consisted of two well-traveled types: wife being a freelance journalist who works from home, and husband a well-traveled, artsy banker. Fine, so then we get to work.
The Schedule (Sked-yool vs. Shed-yule)
Day 1
We had a floor plan given to us for the Victorian flat. The original walls were optional. You either kept them or created new ones. That’s when I noticed just how American I actually was.
Day 2
Of course there was the whole closet topic. Necessary. Wardrobes are just made to injure the clumsy, like myself. They had to be tossed. Then there’s having the bedroom in the front of the house with the largest window. How weird is that? That does fall under personal preference.
Day 3
Let’s just say, my house was the complete opposite of everyone else. Even the Californian conformed a bit. Not this Texan. Well, I didn’t fight the system. I just tweaked the personality of the original layout, because the wife was American. You know, two bathrooms and no garden/back yard (the couple had a country home, so there was tons of time for gardens). Elevation was introduced. We didn’t get along at all. Comprehending the concept as something to express in a drawing was a bit daunting. This is where I paused.
Day 4
The class has moved on to materials, colors, and textures. I’m still on pause. Around 9:00p, I practice the elevation technique until the lightbulb illuminates the entire room. Eureka!
Day 5
I draw my space in elevation. I chose the back of the home, which was designated as the bathroom and master bedroom, complete with walk-in closet. Meanwhile, it’s the kitchen and living area for everyone else. No worries. The best part of this day is the look on my professor’s face when he sees my drawing. Due to my “Pause Period,” he thought I’d definitely not gotten any further. So then he paused for praise. I love that part of the class. The praise is great. If I could buy it, I would get a case of it at SAM’S CLUB. 
Then there were the presentations. This was a little unnerving because I’ve never had to present this type of work before. Actually, it wasn’t bad at all. As we went around the room, each student expressed and defended their design. Of course, my turn involved the defense of the lack of a garden and the presence of a walk-in closet. When the closet critics were closing in (no support given by the Californian), my professor saved me. Again. He explained that the choice to exclude or include is a personal design choice that obviously worked for my floor plan. (He also said my bathroom was ugly. I agreed, but let’s not dwell on that because this is a hero situation. No need for negative details.)
We were given our certificates of fabulousness. Emails were exchanged and then it was back to the States. It was totally worth the $485 I paid for the course. Keep in mind that it was about £200 that converted to the American dollar amount. The weakness of our dollar stung daily but was relieved by the wonderful experience in the course.
Tallyho On my last evening, I went to Harrods, Harvey Nichols, Wagamama, and even the Texas-bred Tommy Hilfiger, all in about 4–5 hours. The day before that, I went to the British Museum and got a bit lost in Tottentam Court trying to find the RIBA (Royal Institute of British Architects) library to buy the Frank Ching staple in architectural drawing. This book has been prescribed on both sides of the pond. I’ll pick it up today when I get into Cambridge from Boston for class. Oh yeah, I forgot. I’m at Harvard for the summer. I’ll tell you about that later. |
