48 hours to runway
Lamar adjusts his tie, then stands with his hands clasped in front of his chest. "Okay designers. Your next challenge is to create… plant-based fashion."
Of the six remaining contestants, half are puzzled, two look panicked, and one is unable to resist exclaiming yes! with a small bounce onto the balls of their feet and back.
"And by that, I don't mean cotton," Lamar continues, turning to laugh on cue with Helga, who tosses her perfect dark curls. "These days, there are sundry sustainable, innovative options on the market for sourcing your fashion materials. From algae to zindigo—and yes, that's a real thing, thanks to the magic of Mercsanto—your task will be to create a set of looks using non-traditional plant-based fabrics. One for the runway, one accessible."
By now, five of the six contestants are nodding. Alvin, however, is so far beyond a nod he stands in trance, his brain already formulating formulae, modifying microflora, and configuring for couture.
Helga smiles into the camera before turning to the contestants. "Remember designers, plant-based doesn’t have to mean not cute."
Alvin recalibrates: couture and cute.
30 hours to runway
The show follows Alvin sketching what appear to be bulbous cocoons in his notebook, then staring into the vegetables piled at an L.A. farmer's market stand, then on his cellphone pacing outside the studio. In a voiceover, his baritone explains, "The benefit to attending Parsons, other than providing more exposure for my work than is possible in all of Iowa, is proximity to so many other great innovators. I met my friend Sunny while he was at CUNY. Now he has his own materials engineering lab at NYU. His specialty is GMOs."
10 hours to runway
"Okay, talk to me Alvin." Lamar leans back, a fist under his chin with the other hand supporting the elbow.
It's a unique blend that grows with you, able to be modified on the fly with the press of a genetic switch. Well, it will be."
Lamar doesn't move, except to purse his lips.
"You don't like it," states Alvin.
"Alvin, it's a sack. You have to do better than this to stay in the competition."
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"No, it's really, it's a—"
Lamar holds up a hand and looks away. "Alvin," he turns back to meet Alvin's eyes. "I'm worried for you. Truly."
6 hours to runway
Alvin sidles up to Margerra, who is placing the legs of a pair of bamboo-stalk overalls into two vases of water. "Margie, you're from L.A. You have family here?"
Margerra adjusts the pant legs until the overalls stand up on their own. Then she turns to Alvin. "Yes."
"Any… kids in that bunch? Maybe toddler aged?"
Margerra narrows her eyes for a moment, then relaxes and smiles; Alvin is the darling of the group. "Yes."
"Chance I could borrow one?"
1 hour to runway
Alvin adjusts the Nehru collar of a sage green, hourglass-shaped husk around an angular model. "Just relax, you look amazing," he whispers. She turns from side to side in the mirror, expressionless. Umber shoots begin to peel up from the base of the husk's obolid panels like a sunrise. Her smile follows suit.
The show
Alvin's model in the green husk holds the hand of a dimpled two-year-old with beaded pigtails. The child wears a matching outfit, except their collar cocoons up around the neck in triangular fronds and the base extends to the ankles. Slits up to either hipbone, plus the model's firm handhold, are all that allow the child to move down the runway.
"We get it, Alvin. You're from Iowa," Helga stage whispers to Tom and the celebrity judge in the first row.
"What are they, corn?" The celebrity asks, rattling all forty-eight buckles on their constructed jacket.
The model turns, and the sunburst spreads across their shoulder blades like a time-lapse of autumn in a field. The husk unfolds—shucks itself—and the model is left in a form-fitting soft yellow bodysuit made of innumerable small cushiony pockets. Her skin glows where the outfit reflects against it. The shed husk has transformed into a flapper-like train of green silken threads; it curls into itself and around her feet into soft gladiator sandals.
"That's beautiful. But, for accessible…" Helga says. "I mean the kid's cute, but what if their outfit grows ugly? Alvin can't guarantee results like hers."
Lamar and the celebrity nod, Lamar as though it pains him. "It's just not marketable. What, you'll never need another item of clothing again?"
The celebrity blows a raspberry, which doesn't make the final edit.
Elimination round
"The mushroom suits. We loved them! But they're not plant-based, technically. I'm sorry you're not moving on."
"Unfortunately, the aphid infestation ruined it for us. You're not making it."
"The bamboo is brilliant, though we had issues with the stiffness."
"You're calling it wood, but that's just a paper shirt. We can hear it rustling."
"We loved the Garden of Eden concept. And the moss for your accessible look? I want to sleep in that!"
"Alvin, the runway husk was beautiful, but—"
Three thousand miles away, Sunny pulls a trigger. From his back pocket, Alvin discreetly flips on a handheld fan, then positions it to blow from his models towards the judging panel. An overwhelming sense of love suddenly fills the room.
"But—" Helga sniffs, then closes her eyes to sniff again.
Lamar and the celebrity strike similar poses. As does the crying fungal designer, who happens to be closest to the judging panel and hence downwind from Alvin's fan.
"I'm sorry Alvin, but," Helga's eyes are moist. She, Lamar, and the celebrity judge inhale in unison, then speak in unison:
"Congratulations. You're tonight's winner!"