BEYOND THE RUNWAY:
Notes on Presence, Restraint, and the Carnival of Couture
When I first envisioned Criss Magazine™, I wrote that it was not being built for mass visibility, but for preservation. I wanted to build a living archive documenting Caribbean and diaspora creativity with intention, permanence, and editorial care.
But it is one thing to type those words in the quiet sanctuary of your own desk. It is an entirely different thing to carry that vision on your shoulders, step through the doors of a venue, and claim your space in a crowded room.
On June 20th, I attended Vivant Production Collective’s Carnival of Couture at The Mezz in Downtown Orlando. On the official website, Criss has published our traditional editorial recap—documenting the technical mastery, the haunting circus archetypes of Clyana Ward, the rich crochet storytelling of Starria, and the explosive Carnival energy engineered by Dawn Alexander. That piece is for the archive.
This piece is about what happened behind the camera lens. It’s about what it felt like to stand in that room as media —and the heavy, beautiful weight of realizing that the space I’ve been building for others is a space I am finally allowing myself to inhabit.
Walking Into the Room
Before arriving at The Mezz, there was a familiar, quiet anxiety. When you are building a boutique luxury publication from the ground up, the imposter syndrome doesn’t politely dismiss itself; it sits right next to you on the drive over. You wonder if the room will recognize the intention behind your brand, or if you will just feel like another person in the crowd holding a camera.
But the moment I walked through the door, the atmosphere shifted. The room was a heady, dark blend of Roaring Twenties glamour, vintage burlesque, and high-fashion theatricality. Red light bled across the venue, bouncing off gold accents and rich textures. It was highly visual, dramatic, and thick with creative electricity.
What caught my attention wasn’t just the styling or the set design—it was the collective breathing of a community that was hungry to be seen.
In that moment, I looked down at my media pass, and something clicked. I wasn’t there to seek approval or validation from the fashion world. I was there because Criss Magazine™ has a responsibility to document this world with care, elegance, and restraint.
Conversations in the Shadows
Behind the flashing lights of the runway, the true heartbeat of the evening was found in the quiet, stolen conversations between sets.
I found myself talking to Asia, the self-taught Jamaican seamstress based right here in Orlando. On the runway, her collection was a stunning masterclass in Old Hollywood heritage mixed with modern diaspora identity. But speaking with her face-to-face, away from the roaring crowd, what struck me most was the sheer discipline of her practice. We talked about what it means to preserve cultural storytelling through fabric, and the profound vulnerability of putting your heritage on display for an audience to judge.
It reminded me deeply of why we do this. The Caribbean lens isn’t just a source of passive inspiration for global fashion lines to draw from; it is an active source of elite innovation, craftsmanship, and sophisticated authorship. These designers aren’t just making clothes; they are building legacies in real-time.
The View from Behind the Lens
There is an incredible, almost intoxicating shift that happens when you view an event through the viewfinder of a camera as a member of the press. You are simultaneously entirely present and beautifully detached.
As the models glided down the runway—moving from Starria’s soft, hand-knit textures to Dawn Alexander’s sharply engineered wired structures —I wasn’t just capturing content. I was capturing construction. Through my lens, I wasn’t looking for the casual “influencer aesthetic”. I was looking for the drama in the contrast, the deep luxury in the rich blacks of the silhouettes, and the tangible texture of the velvet, sequins, and intricate stitching.
Presenting myself as media, introducing Criss Magazine, and sitting down with designers wasn't simply a business exercise. It was the first time the publication existed beyond my desk, my notebook, and my imagination. Every conversation felt like another brick laid in the foundation of what Criss is becoming.
What the Evening Taught Me
If this evening taught me anything, it is that taste and intention will always carry more weight than mass noise. I didn’t need a massive team or a legacy publishing house backing me to make my presence felt. The restraint, the visual identity, and the pure discipline we have poured into our early drafts are working.
My confidence didn’t change because people noticed me; it changed because I realized how desperately our community needs an editorial home that treats their work with reverence. Central Florida’s fashion ecosystem is alive, avant-garde, and brilliant —it simply requires a dedicated author to write its history.
Issue 1, Identity & Legacy, is arriving this October. Walking out of The Mezz into the warm Florida night, I looked through the first images on my camera and realized something had changed.
Criss Magazine was no longer just an idea.
The archive is being written.
And this is only the first of many pages.
Thank you for being on this journey with me.
— Krystal
Founder & Editor-in-Chief, Criss Magazine™