The Garden of Eden Should’ve Had Sewing Needles

Words by Kaili Timberlake (@kailidolorestimberlake)

“Maddie knew who she was from a very early age.”

This is a quote from Euphoria I hear in my head every time my roommate, Maddie Brown, pulls out her sewing machine.

My roommate, Maddie, is one of the most passionate, ambitious, and driven people I have ever met. She does many things and has many skills, and after living with her for two semesters, I’ve become quite familiar with all of them. 

She can sleep through an alarm like no other. She can cold email like her life depends on it. She can fix a resume in her sleep. And since we’re on the topic of sleep again, I just need to reiterate: she literally sleeps like no other human I've ever encountered. You would think she is dead. And when she awakens from this slumber, you would think she is rising from the dead. I can picture it so clearly now – the way her eyes jolt open, her asking for the time, us telling her it's 9:00, and her launching out of bed like a crazed woman for the interview she has at 9:15. Because just to reiterate something else, Maddie is one of the most ambitious people I have ever met and somehow has an interview every single morning. And it all paid off – she signed with her dream bank, Barclays (subtle shout). 

But that's not what this article is about. Although, honestly, I could write about Maddie doing anything – I did just write a paragraph about her sleeping habits – but this article is about what Maddie does best. Although sleeping is one of her superpowers, she does something she’s even better at: Maddie Brown is a designer. 

I remember the first time she pulled out her sewing machine in our 25ft x 10ft quad we lived in in our sorority last semester. I was terrified. The room became completely unwalkable. There were fabric scraps everywhere, sewing needles scattered across the floor, and tools I didn’t even know existed (seam rippers, fabric shears, the foot pedal thing). Although my roommates and I genuinely feared for our lives every night walking to our beds, convinced we were going to be impaled by a needle or cut by fat scissors, it was still one of the most magical things I have ever witnessed.

What started as a bunch of fabric scraps on the floor somehow combined with the visions brewing in her brain, and from nothing, she brought to life some of the most beautiful pieces of clothing I've ever seen. And for the first time, it felt like I was watching a physical expression of how her mind works – taking something so scattered and piecing it together until it just made sense. It was chaotic, messy, and unpredictable (take a look at the design space again) – but somehow it all came together to create something beautiful. It doesn’t make sense to anyone else, but it makes perfect sense to her. One minute she was pulling out spoons. CDs, random polaroids and I was genuinely thinking what the fuck is she doing? And then suddenly, boom, Maddie and her 30-pound sewing machine really did the job.

That’s the thing – when Maddie and her sewing machine come together, magic happens. Not just in what she creates, but in her. 

And I’d like to sit here and write that it happens everytime, without a doubt. But that’s just not true. What’s actually so impressive is that it happens everytime, with so many doubts – despite how many times it feels like it won’t come together, it does.

Last Garb runway was, of course, a hectic week for Maddie (she has these a lot). She had an intense Econ midterm, plus what felt like 3 interviews every morning with very important people – and Garb runway was that Friday. Naturally, everyone wanted something from her. I wanted an outfit. Our other roommate, Zoey, wanted one. Her little in Garb, Ryan, wanted one. I even had a friend visiting from home who we were planning to peer pressure into walking. And Maddie, being Maddie, was never going to deny any of us of this wish.

So she did what she truly does best – she pulled out her sewing machine.  

That entire week, Maddie had been a stressed-out shell of herself. Between her interviews and midterm, she took the max doses of her Adderall prescription, which forced her into her hyper-structured, overly focused mode. She was honestly unbearable to be around, but when she hit that joint and started making us clothes, she snapped back into herself. 

Suddenly, she was Maddie again – crazy, scattered, all over the place –  and creating clothes that made her best friends have fun and feel confident.

Maddie has this ability to make you feel amazing in what she creates. Every piece feels intentional, personal, and made with such care that you feel the outfit was made especially for you. And well, it technically is. She quite literally sews it onto your body. And when you wear it, you can feel how special that is.

Although I’m saying Maddie this, Maddie that, I really just wanted to write a piece about what it feels like to be around the mind of a designer. At first, I thought I would interview her, maybe ask her questions, quote her a little, and try to explain this process from her perspective. But honestly, I changed my mind because I think it’s more interesting to hear from someone on the outside looking in – where I can only begin to speculate what's going on. Because the people that do this craft are just so naturally gifted at what they do that I don't even think they can fully explain it – it just makes sense to them, and I don’t think it's ever supposed to make sense to the rest of us. They have a vision, and somehow they execute it flawlessly. If you’ve come to any Garb runway (you’re weird if you haven’t), you know what I’m talking about. As an outsider, all we can really do is sit back, watch, admire, and try to write an article about the beautiful moments that kind of talent creates. 

So when I was thinking about what I could write for Garden of Eden, some version of this was the first thing that came to mind. If the Garden of Eden is the place of first creation, well then Maddie’s chaotic corner of a mess in our room covered in fabric scraps and sewing needles, feels like the Garden of Maddie. The beginning of beauty and possibility, and I think every designer has their own version of this space. Maybe it’s a small room that becomes unwalkable, or maybe it's just a desk cluttered with sketches and ideas. It's their own first place of creation, where ideas are born and magic takes shape. All of us who are lucky enough to wear a piece they’ve made get to take our own bite of the apple – we step into something they created and come out feeling like a different version of ourselves. That's just the kind of magic designers create in their Gardens.

So the first quote always comes back to me — “Maddie knew who she was from a very early age” — because of all the things I wrote, this still rings the truest. 

Designing isn’t just something she’s good at, and it isn’t a hobby she picked up between interviews, midterms, and heavily sleeping. It’s literally who she is. It's the clearest version of her. 

Every scattered fabric scrap on our floor, every last-minute Halloween costume fix, dress malfunction fix (just the other day, our roommate Zoey's dress fully broke at a club and Maddie got in there with her earring(?) and somehow fixed it), or every outfit sewn together the night before a runway, Maddie is at the center of it all – her chaos, care, and brilliance. 

And that’s some of the real magic of Garb, and of every designer in it. Every week before a runway feels like complete chaos – stressed out and running around with safety pins in their mouths. And yet, the designers always pull through. Out of scraps of fabric, last-minute panicking, and a vision the rest of us can’t even begin to understand, they always make something beautiful. It’s pure art. As nomads watching it all happen, we’ll probably never understand the brilliance of a designer brain, but we’re not supposed to. 

We’re just lucky enough to witness it, maybe wear it, and feel the magic they create.