Historic Met Gala looks from Harris Reed, Dolce & Gabbana, Valentino, and Versace.

It’s a whirlwind of bodyguards, assistants, and a Fourth of July’s worth of flashbulbs as the fashion elite emerge in a sensory overload of extravagant outfits. Despite months of preparation, Katya had every reason to be nervous. The youngest starting quarterback to ever appear at the Super Bowl was 23-year-old Dolphins quarterback and future Hall of Famer Dan Marino. He had four years on Katya. He probably threw up too.

After his first appearance, Marino never returned to the Super Bowl. But for Katya, it was different. Still a student, her unique hand-knit wool gowns returned to the red carpet of the Met Gala each year for the next four years.

When asked about the experience, especially her first Met Gala appearance, she’s quick to divert the credit from herself. “I didn’t create the first Met dress,” she says. “It was a creative collaboration between my client Sandra, and me.”

Katya describes the relationship as a fortunate collaboration. “From day one, we were open and honest with each other,” she explains. She started by drawing up more than ten designs and stayed flexible throughout the process. “I had strong opinions, but I tried to remember that this was her moment, so we talked about colors, parts, and pieces from each drawing.” Confident in her designs but cautious with her presentation, Katya focused on listening carefully. Over time, she learned to read her client’s expressions, looking for the telltale smile that signaled enthusiasm.

“I could not have asked for a more amazing client,” Katya says. “Sandra was fully engaged, collaborative, supportive, and enthusiastic rather than managerial or demanding. She even went fabric shopping with me in the Garment District in the heart of Midtown Manhattan. It was such a lovely experience. Each year, for five years, we would approach the theme for her dress together.” And each year, for five years, Katya hand knit each of Sandra’s dresses using wool. 

On the day of the first Met Gala, Katya’s nerves were over the moon, but she refers to it as a tough-love moment. Initially, she felt the whole world was scrutinizing her work for imperfections. A friend offered some tough but sensible advice, reminding Katya that nobody knew who she was and that the Gala wasn’t about her. “The pressure was really on Sandra, who had to walk the carpet and face all those cameras,” she reflects.

Sandra’s husband, Daniel, also helped put things into perspective. Despite being a prominent figure and doing his part to look brilliant each year, he told Katya, “I could show up naked with a bow tie, and nobody would care.” Dan’s humility and confidence helped Katya let go of much of her anxiety.

Katya’s own humility is surprising, considering her accomplishments. In a matter-of-fact tone, she explains that while she has five appearances at the world’s premier fashion event, she considers herself a “nobody.” In her signature candid style, she says, “Look, the truth is people are bending their necks to see what Beyoncé or Rihanna are wearing. So, as I moved forward from my first red carpet dress, I was able to have more fun, be passionate, and enjoy seeing my work alongside the world’s top designers.”

Katya, who is currently working in a bespoke atelier, shares her observations on the streets of Manhattan, painting a vivid picture of a fashion world in transition. “Within the community in New York City, there is a significant move toward slow, ethical, higher-cost items,” she notes. “We are seeing a shift toward investment pieces. People are starting to want something that holds up and is not part of global fast fashion.”

This shift reflects a growing dissatisfaction with the rapid churn of styles produced by massive brands. “The big brands are churning out new styles every week—some of it is barely wearable,” Katya explains. “The trend cycle is incredibly short, not just for styles like flared pants but also for specific brands or items like Adidas Sambas. It’s already fading, but just a few months ago, you couldn’t walk a block without seeing them.”

Katya also highlights a post-COVID phenomenon where lower Manhattan influencers and college students donned over the top and poorly made party outfits, clearly intended for one-time use. “That sense of disposable consumerism really bummed me out,” she admits. “The people in my circle aren’t consuming as much. I hope we will see more of that.”

In this evolving landscape, the leaders of change are those who prioritize quality and sustainability over fleeting trends. Katya’s experiences and observations suggest a promising future where fashion enthusiasts increasingly value enduring, ethically produced pieces. This evolution is driven by a collective desire to invest in items that offer longevity and integrity, marking a hopeful shift away from the relentless pace of fast fashion.

As someone deeply immersed in the elite world of haute couture, Katya is also intimately familiar with the humble, down-and-dirty workings of a sheep farm. Her unique experiences bridge the gap between the glamorous runways and the rustic charm of wool production.

“One summer after my freshman year, I wanted to escape the city. I’ve always felt a connection to wool, so I started Googling and cold-calling family-owned farms, asking if they needed a nanny or cook—anything, because I wanted to learn more about sheep,” Katya recounts.

Despite many polite rejections, the Allen Farm on Martha’s Vineyard welcomed her. “The farm and the amazing people running it have been there since 1872. It’s a 100-acre farm that stretches to the ocean. I arrived in May, right in the middle of shearing season, and met Andy Rice, a shearer from Vermont. I started with simple tasks like trimming hooves, but soon, I was following Andy to different farms, assisting him.”

Her initiation into shearing was both challenging and memorable. “One day, we were at a dairy farm that had a few sheep. The farmer agreed to let me try shearing a massive ram. Halfway through, I lost my grip, and there was this half-naked ram running around. But we got him back, and I finished my first sheep. After that, I was hooked. There was just something about wool and sheep ranching that resonated with me.”

Returning to school in the fall, Katya’s passion for wool shaped her design practice. “For my thesis, I started making my own yarn. I got involved with the Livestock Conservancy, a fantastic organization in North Carolina that works with farmers to preserve heritage breeds. I focused on wool from endangered breeds like the Santa Cruz sheep, known for their wonderful elasticity, and the Gulf Coast Native sheep, which have adapted to humid environments with shorter, more elastic wool.”

Understanding the unique qualities of these wools, often overlooked due to their unconventional characteristics, Katya set out to create garments that honored these rare fibers. “Most people don’t like their wool because it’s not a long staple or a fine micron, so they don’t breed them. I wanted to focus on these animals and make garments that were suitable for their specific type of wool. From tracksuits to outerwear, I picked nine yarns and paired them with different types of people, like a rapper or an athlete, to highlight the versatility and beauty of these unique fibers.”

Last season, PETA took to the streets outside Spring Studios—the heart of New York Fashion Week’s activities—to call on fashionistas to ditch wool, urging them to view sheep as individuals rather than fashion accessories. However, Katya, who is an advocate for the Livestock Conservancy and traditional farming practices, believes these messages mislead young designers and fashion fans about the realities of wool production in North America.

“What is PETA’s realistic request? Do they want us to never shear a sheep again?” Katya asks pointedly. She is quick to highlight that they neglect to mention that sheep have been domesticated for thousands of years and no longer naturally shed their wool. Without shearing, sheep can become very ill, go blind, and eventually die in misery. Ironically, the only way to stop shearing sheep would be to exterminate millions of them.

“What they’re hoping is that people who are uneducated will immediately be repulsed and react by rejecting any use of animal products,” says Katya. “That’s not only inaccurate, it encourages inexperienced designers, consumers, and models to think they are being kind to animals by relying on plastics. That’s a whole other moral and ethical suitcase to unpack.”

Their marketing preys on the notion that people will take the seemingly easy option. However, Katya has educated herself extensively on the topic. “I’ve worked on a sheep ranch and actually learned how to shear sheep and can tell you that animal health, welfare, and protection are taken very seriously on sheep ranches across America,” she says. Katya hopes that more designers and models who participate in sensationalist and shock campaigns will do the critical thinking and research necessary to reach a more accurate conclusion about the wool industry.

“I’ve gotten hate comments from some random person who thinks working with wool is animal abuse. Even at Parsons, a lot of students didn’t know that wool came from sheep.” In a fashion world increasingly focused on sustainability and ethics, it’s essential for both designers and consumers to base their choices on comprehensive knowledge and understanding.