Kay Crerar

March 18, 2025

The Daydreamer

“You’ll need to think more realistically.”

I was 21 when that phrase hit me like a ton of bricks. It felt as if the floor had given out beneath me, leaving me drawing a blank. I sat across from the doctor, whose only attempt at comfort was sheepishly holding out a box of Kleenex as I wiped away the tears I hadn’t even realized were spilling down my cheeks. We had been discussing how my medical symptoms were affecting my daily tasks and how severely they impacted my ability to keep up with my university classes.

I was heading into my final year—the year that was meant to be the most exciting for students, and the hardest. Then what? My whole life ahead of me? What would that life look like if I were to think realistically?

I had plans to work in film

—I had barely begun chasing that childhood dream. And what about launching my own fashion label, the main reason I pursued my degree in the first place? How was I supposed to get there when I could barely keep myself sitting upright in a lecture?

No one is made perfectly. Humans are complex systems that sometimes need help.

I have low energy, chronic pain, scoliosis, and a few missing organs to boot. But who doesn’t have a few missing pieces, in one way or another? Up until that moment in the examination room, I think I had managed fairly well. I knew my limits and could push through obstacles as they came. Everyone has their own battles, whether they be physical, mental, environmental, or something else entirely.

I wouldn’t say anyone has life easier as a whole. If there’s a problem, there’s a solution—you just have to find it. That’s something I’ve always lived by. I didn’t like being told there was a limit to what I could do. After all, I had already been living life one step at a time.

Why should I stop now?

A few years later, I focused my graduate collection on this part of my life—drawing inspiration from the body horror and dysphoria I experienced and how the media I grew up with shaped my perception of it. I learned a lot from showcasing at Mass Exodus and Fashion Art Toronto, growing as a designer with each experience.

Moving into this new phase—from university student to freelancer—hasn’t been without its challenges.

My advice to anyone in a similar position?

Don’t worry about what you should be doing.

It’s okay for your art to be slow and methodical. My own designs are often dreamed up from fantasies of altered bodies, modifications to support the living system, and breaking down any barriers tied to being realistic.

I often think back to when I was—what? Eight? I was obsessed with behind-the-scenes videos from movies and TV shows, Fashion Television, MythBusters, and cosplay. The craftsmanship drew me in. From a young age, I knew one thing more than anything else in the world: I wanted to make cool stuff. I wasn’t exactly sure what fell under that umbrella, but I knew I was going to make it.

I tried my hand at woodworking, welding, electronics, drawing, painting, sewing—anything I could get my hands on, thanks to my talented and supportive parents. It wasn’t until my final year of high school that I had to confront what I wanted to study in university. So, I went with what I was most interested in at the time—sewing.

Now, more than ever, I know that I don’t want to limit my ideas or my life. But I also won’t let myself compare my journey to others—we all have our own paths and dreams.