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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Newsroom

a day ago

• Newsroom

Short story for Matariki Weekend: It followed her home, by Jessica Hinerangi Thompson- Carr

They lived in an overpriced flat two blocks from the beach. Peter, Nathan, Luke and Harley all took commerce, Isla studied environmental management, and Kiri had enrolled in marine science. Kiri met Isla through Te Rōpū Māori association, and as soon as she'd expressed needing a place to live, Isla had invited her in. The boys accepted her quickly, they thought she was fun because she could do keg stands. Kiri didn't like beer, but she wanted friends, so she signed the lease. They held flat parties, large and small, at least three nights a week. As the university workload increased, the parties did not wind down. They strained through their studies, the promise of a box and some beats their carrot dangling on a stick at the end of the day. * Almost every day of first semester was spent at the beach with drinks. Kiri walked to the rock pools while the others lay in the dunes, tipping her beer onto the sand when they weren't looking. She crouched like a shag and studied the eco systems inside. All her lunchtimes at high school had been spent in the corner of the library reading about octopus and crabs. Her only friend had been the seventy year old Librarian Mrs Lauder. Kiri wanted to be liked. So badly. She didn't want to be Koretake Kiri anymore, the sore nickname given by her old peers up North. Koretake Kiri couldn't answer pātai in class, she froze up. Koretake Kiri couldn't do a job without dropping something. Koretake Kiri didn't know social cues, she rambled while others rolled their eyes. She didn't know what clothes to wear or how to apply makeup, or party like they did on TV. But Ōtepoti was her clean slate. No one knew her down here. She was determined to learn, and fake what she could. She'd done the whole rom com transformation thing before arriving. Got a fresh haircut. Plucked her eye brows. Filled her wardrobe with Glassons attire. She knew to play the billboard hot 100 when the aux cord came her way. She watched beauty youtubers with her breakfast. She found ways to bond with her flatmates. Isla loved One Direction, American Horror Story, and spending her afternoons scrolling Tumblr, so Kiri watched all the episodes at night through her headphones and made a Tumblr account dedicated to Zayn. They lay side by side on Isla's bed eating chips and re-blogging for hours. The boys loved video games. Sometimes they let her play Mario Kart or Call of Duty with them. She was good enough to last a few rounds, and mimicked how her cousins talked up home when they played. 'Kerri! Oi! Don't shoot at me!' 'It's Kiri.' 'Sorry Kerri. What the hell what are you doing?!' 'Your mum.' 'Kerri! Where are you going now?' 'Get wrecked scrub. It's Kiri.' They all chuckled and she hid her smile with a shrug. She had to limit her reo use. Isla seemed uncomfortable when Kiri tried to kōrero Māori with her outside of uni. The boys didn't know anything beyond Kia Ora and the national anthem. She tried to teach them a little. 'Kei te pehea koe?' 'Huh?' 'It means how are you? You could say anything back like pai for good, pōuri for sad, ngenge for tired…' 'Oh. I'm good, thanks.' Isla did most of the cleaning, and Kiri tried to help. There was no chore chart. The boys didn't seem to notice the filth. Peter liked to watch Isla vacuum and Harley liked to watch Kiri cook her meals. Kiri always gave him a portion of what she made. He was the most attractive of the boys, though she'd learned the phrase 'don't screw the crew,' she couldn't help flirting with him, seeing every glance he gave her as something meaningful. She began to feel at home in the flat, each room always loud and lively. The location was ideal, the ocean a stone's throw away so she could study marine life anytime. She loved the parties, things she'd never been invited to before. She could blend in at parties, beneath the aluminium hum, revelling in the spell of false friendliness that everyone fell under. * Her 19th birthday rolled around. They spent the day on the beach. The boys chugged beers in between a game of touch and Isla watched on her towel sipping vodka cruisers. Kiri went to the rock pools. Her māmā called. 'Hari Huritau e te tau! I pehea āu akoranga?' 'Pai. Good,' Kiri didn't mention the C she'd received on her recent essay, or how she'd missed three tutorials because she was too hungover, 'I'm learning a lot.' 'Me āu hoanoho?' 'They're really cool,' she didn't confess about the excessive drinking or the lack of a chore chart. 'Kōrero Māori to me my girl. Why don't you kōrero Māori?' 'Everything is pai māmā, kei te pai noa. It's all good down here. I'll be up to visit end of the year.' She hung up and stared into the water at her feet. Her tears fed the pool, and movement caught her eye. Something hid at the bottom under the murk and weed. She felt it watching her. A rounded shadow, adjusting itself deeper into the rock. 'Kiri! Come on!' It was dinner time. Everyone stumbled back to the flat tipsy. The back of Kiri's head buzzed. Her teeth tingled. She noticed something slink around in her peripheral. * Kiri twisted her body in her mirror. As she tucked the back of her cami into her jeans she noticed it. Beside her bed on the floor, pressed against the wall, a shiny wet blob. She screamed. Isla came running, 'What is it?' 'Look!' Kiri pointed. 'I don't know … what is that?' Isla peered down. It was the size of a bowling ball, pale pink, and slightly translucent. Like silicone but squishier, like jelly but sturdier. Kiri's insides flipped. It had followed her home, she knew it. She reached out. 'Don't touch it!' Kiri sniffed the smallest spot of wet at the tip of her finger, 'I think it's from the beach.' 'Oh god that's disgusting.' Isla stormed through the flat. 'Harley! Did you put something in Kiri's room? Peter! Do you know anything about this? Boys! Is it a sick joke? You guys are so rank.' The boys came to look, shaking their heads, scrunching their noses. 'I have no idea what that thing is.' 'Alien as!' Peter marvelled, offering Kiri a beer. 'What do I do? How do I get it out?' 'Shovel it out?' 'We don't have a shovel.' They used an oven tray to scoop the mucilaginous mass off the floor. It was heavy. Kiri and Peter had to hold each side of the tray. They walked sideways down the street to the beach. It schlooped onto the sand, rippling at the drop, then stilled. 'Do you think it's dead?' Kiri whispered. 'Maybe,' Peter peered down, 'I don't know if it was ever alive.' The pink glowed in the setting sun. It looked too bright to be dead. * Although it was her birthday party, no one noticed when she disappeared from it. So many strangers filled the house. Kiri collapsed onto her bed and waited for sleep to come. Her whole body was coiled in taut uncertainty. She rolled side to side. She stared at the ceiling, then she stared at the floor where the blob had been. The jelly stain hadn't dried. Kiri reached out from her bed and wiped her finger across it. She sniffed. It was an odd smell. A little sickening, a little moreish. She rubbed her nose and finger raw into the dawn, rubbing and sniffing, rubbing and sniffing. She couldn't stop. * It began in her puku. Groanings like wrecked ships swaying in ocean trenches, whale song echoing down to her pelvis. She had to leave her lectures early, mortified. She skipped flat movie nights and kept to her room, researching IBS and colon cancer. Student health said it was trapped gas and prescribed some medication. It didn't help. Kiri spent her time curled up facing the wall where the blob had been. It had left a permanent stain on the skirting board which still smelled. Some nights she woke kneeling on the carpet, face pressed against it, inhaling desperately. Sometimes she caught herself licking it. She gained the fresher five and more, despite diet attempts. Her belly, hips, behind, and breasts, all bubbled out from her bones. She attended step and spin classes at the gym, stopped eating fast food and sweets, and shrunk her portions. But her flesh kept expanding. * 'Don't you think that's a bit revealing?' Harley scanned her outfit one night. Kiri wore a sheer long sleeve over a v-neck singlet and jeans. 'Are you serious?' 'I dunno … I can see a lot.' Before she could think what to reply, he left her. Kiri swore at her reflection; scolded herself for not telling him where to put his eyes, for not defending herself. She consulted Isla who was hacking burnt crust off a pan in the kitchen, a rare cooking attempt by Peter. 'Don't ever let a man tell you what your outfit is or isn't. You look great.' 'Is it too revealing though? Harley said-' 'You've just gained a little weight and guys can't compute that our bodies aren't flat forever. Ignore him.' Their thirsty Thursday proceeded. They went to the clubs and returned by 3am, congregating in the lounge to guzzle water and review the night. Kiri settled on an arm chair and just listened. She was content for the moment, until she felt Harley's eyes on her. 'Jesus put your breasts away, Kerri.' He said it loudly so everyone else stopped talking and looked at him, then looked at her. 'They're actually massive.' 'Don't look at them if they bother you so much.' 'It's hard not to when you've got them out like that.' Kiri stood and walked as calmly as she could to her room. She checked herself in the mirror. Her skin was coral red and her eyes shone with shock. But she was covered up. The boys had never commented on their bodies before. At least not in front of them. She tucked herself into bed and pawed at the blob wall, struggling to sleep. She recalled her notes from the last few lectures she'd attended. Shelter seeking behaviour in intertidal crabs … the collapse of orange roughy fisheries… H. rotundifrons and P. elongatus species scuttled up and down her walls. Sleek tuna, narrow sharks, and burnished barracudas swam circles on her ceiling. * Her appetite evolved. She couldn't starve herself anymore. She was sick of eating nothing. So she started eating everything; kinas, mussels, shrimp, tarakihi, red gurnard, tuna, snapper, squid, prawns, oysters … Nights when she'd run out of kai she ran to the beach and dug frantically in the dark for pipi till her fingers turned blue. Sometimes she wanted the kai so desperately, she didn't slow to cook it. She slipped fillets of raw fish down her throat with ease. The bones were no obstacle. During exam season, Kiri's skin turned pink all over, like sunburn, but the days were dark and cold. Small bumps burgeoned along her arms and legs. She returned to student health and they said it was eczema caused by stress. She lathered foundation over the limbs she could not cover in clothing, and beat herself silly every morning with the beauty blender. Every day she was bumpier, pinker, thirstier, hungrier. She couldn't escape the unbearable sensation of dryness. In the shower she scrubbed herself raw, rotating between a loofah, exfoliant gloves and a pumice stone. Whispers outside the door. She caught 'being so weird …' and 'flat meeting'. It was happening, she sighed, they were seeing Koretake Kiri. * Exams passed, and celebrations commenced with more gusto than ever. Everyone went to Castle Street. Kiri followed her flatmates trying not to feel like the unwanted one who clung too close. They mostly ignored her, except Harley who'd snorted something that made him extremely friendly. Kiri disregarded him. Of all of them, he was the last one she wanted to talk to. He hadn't said sorry, just pretended everything was fine. She felt his eyes on her throughout the night. She tried to elbow them off, jumping from group to group, mooching smokes and laughing at anything. Hungrier. Thirstier. She walked into random flats and raided the cupboards in the kitchens, stuffing handfuls of cereal and wads of bread into her mouth. No one noticed. In the bathrooms she held her tongue under the running faucet until someone banged on the door. She felt she was drowning in filthy bass and broken glass. She wandered around the corner onto Howe street where bodies thinned out. There she found a couch crouched in the middle of the road like a dare. 'You wouldn't,' Harley's voice behind her jeered. She turned to see him holding out a lighter. She felt an absurd impulse to impress him. She wanted to show him she was more than round and bumpy. Hungry and thirsty. Anxious and useless. She snatched the lighter and flicked a tiny flame alive. It caught the fabric and ran like a dog off its leash up the upholstery. They jumped back, but Kiri caught a whip of heat on her arm. Harley laughed and clapped as she ran away. The back of her head buzzed. Her arm stung, her gums ached and her vision shimmied. She ordered a ride back to the flat and made her way to the beach. Kiri stumbled down the dunes into the black water and hunched over, retching. Something fell out of her mouth. Rushing red on her tongue. She searched the sand at her feet and clutched what could have been wheel shells or cats eyes. But they were teeth. Kiri sank down and let the cold clamp its jaws into her body. The buzzing drained out of her under the press of the tide. Her arm cooled and she let the current shuck her back and forth. She released her teeth, and fell asleep in the steady shore for a few hours. She would have stayed all night if her puku hadn't woken her. * Still hungry. Trekking slowly back home, her feet dragged on the concrete, breath heavy. It was hard to work her lungs out of the water now. Her face slipped downward. She stumbled into the flat and leaned against the wall in the hallway, listening. She slunk into her bedroom and bent down to greet the blob wall. 'Hey,' someone whispered from her bed, 'I texted you.' Harley sat up and patted the space beside him. Kiri lurched forward, her legs heavy sponge, grabbed the edge of the bed and gurgled. 'Was that your stomach?' Harley started laughing, but stopped when his eyes adjusted. She hovered over him. Her eyes had sunk into a softened skull. Her mouth pinched to a lumpy centre. Her hair had melted to mucus. Her thick makeup had been washed away revealing the dermal branchiae that erupted all over her skin. Before Harley could scream, before he could make any move to escape, she had him. It felt sublime to be completely spilled out. She smothered his face with her top ray, and wrapped the rest of her around his middle. Her new suction disc slowly pried his stomach open at the belly button, it was as easy as peeling back the wrapper of a chocolate bar. She relished the warmth of his intestines. She averted her own stomach, her new centre, into his, and began to eat. Leisurely, she digested most of his innards. When she was done, she released his husk and her stomach retreated back into her body. It had been a silent feast. She oozed to the floor and latched herself onto the wall. * Isla knocked several times on Kiri's door the next day. She expected a reply eventually, but when night fell and Kiri hadn't emerged, she let herself in. There was no evidence of the previous night. No body on the bed, no blood or acids on the sheets. But there was a star-shaped blob suctioned to the wall. 'Another one?' Isla sighed, kneeling down to inspect the organism. Before she went to fetch the oven tray, she couldn't help herself. She reached out and touched it. Asked what was on her mind when she wrote the story, the author replied, 'This story was inspired by my own and many of my friends first year of university at Otago. The pressure of trying to fit in and force friendships when inside you're a growing turmoil. The drinking culture, the anxiety, pretending to be an adult when you're just a child fresh out of high school. I had a horrible relationship with my body, my sexuality, my identity, in my first few years. I wanted release, to spill out, but I was terrified of what was in me. This story is about the pressure that builds up when you try to repress it, and revenge of the body and nature. 'It is also inspired by starfish. A friend once walked me through how truly terrifying they are, and if they were to grow larger and come for us, we would be doomed.'

Otago Daily Times

a day ago

• Otago Daily Times

Matariki drone shows ‘all on'

Drones form the shape of a bird seemingly perched on University of Otago buildings during a rehearsal for Matariki displays at Logan Park, Dunedin. Two shows this evening are expected to be watched by thousands of people. PHOTO: STEPHEN JAQUIERY The weather should be settled enough for Matariki drone shows in Dunedin to proceed successfully tonight and draw big crowds, an organiser says. "Wind's looking good. Rain's going away, so she's all on at this stage," Drone Sky Shows director Shane Wild said. The plan is for Dunedin's night sky to dazzle with drone lights, weaving local stories into the stars, from 6pm and 8.30pm at Logan Park. Last year's event attracted 15,000 people, prompting organisers to extend the event footprint across the park this year and have a large area for food trucks and dining. The MetService forecast scattered showers today would clear by noon. Tomorrow is set aside as a contingency night, just in case the conditions prove to be problematic. "I expect it to be fine [tonight]. Wind's low, no rain — we're all go," Mr Wild said. He described meticulous preparation to implement the vision. "We've got specialised people that do all the choreography for the show and make that wow factor," Mr Wild said. A pilot would run the software, and another pilot would be on standby. "So, he's got a manual control, too, if we need some help from him." The show was produced in collaboration with mana whenua and cultural and cultural advisers. Te Rūnaka o Ōtākou and Kāti Huirapa Rūnaka ki Puketeraki representatives Tāwini White and Paulette Tamati-Elliffe issued a joint statement about the project and Matariki generally. "This drone show celebrates our environment and traditional mahika kai, the procurement of highly valued natural resources that have sustained mana whenua over generations," they said. The 2025 theme acknowledged Matariki and Puaka as important stars. "During the national hautapu that was hosted by Ōtākou last year, a karakia for Puaka was included, as well as karakia to the stars of Matariki, to celebrate both," the mana whenua representatives said. "Together, they guide us into a season of reflection, celebration and hope. "It is a time of growth for our customs and our knowledge is strengthened through practice that can be shared with our community."

Otago Daily Times

2 days ago

• Otago Daily Times

Miss Universe entrant a mother

Miss Universe New Zealand finalist Dr Deborah Lambie and her husband David Cameron hold their now 5-month-old son Theodore Cameron-Lambie when he was born on January 4 this year. PHOTOS: SUPPLIED A former Dunedin resident and budding beauty pageant contestant will be competing for the elusive top spot in the Miss Universe New Zealand pageant five months after giving birth. Next week, Dr Deborah Lambie will take to the Miss Universe New Zealand stage in the hopes of representing New Zealand at the worldwide pageant in Thailand this November. If she takes the top spot on Tuesday, she will be the first mother to represent their country at the competition. While Dr Lambie said she was excited, she also had a healthy mix of nerves. "I'm just really focusing on trying to enjoy it, and not worrying about the outcome ... just being able to be a finalist at this stage in my life is amazing." Her son, Theodore "Teddy" Cameron-Lambie, was born on January 4, 2025. Becoming a mother was "so rewarding and amazing," but it was good for her to do something she loved to do, she said. Dr Lambie will be back competing in Miss Universe New Zealand five months postpartum. "I had thought that this chapter of my life was closed, and so to have the opportunity to open it back up is really, really nice. "We've never ever sent a mum to Miss Universe." Initially, she was worried whether she would be confident enough, or had recovered enough to cross the stage so shortly after giving birth, she said. "I was super lucky that I wasn't sick during my pregnancy, so I was able to just keep going with my normal exercise like walking, yoga and pilates. "I've been super fortunate during my pregnancy, which has meant I've been able to recover well — I'm so grateful for that because that's not the same for everyone." The pageant's preliminaries will be held on Sunday, and the Miss Universe Grand Finale would take place on Tuesday at the SkyCity Theatre, Auckland. When she was a medical student studying at the University of Otago, Dr Lambie found herself representing New Zealand at the 2015 Miss World competition in China. Back then, there were rules around eligible ages, whether people could be married or have children and the type of people who could enter, Dr Lambie said. "They have really taken a step forward in the right direction in my mind, and it's basically got rid of all of those rules. "I think it is a great step in the right direction of embracing a broader definition of beauty." She is now living in Auckland, but visits family in Dunedin regularly.