I almost went to Central Saint Martins for fashion design. I

“I almost went to Central Saint Martins for fashion design. I deferred for a year when I graduated high school so that I could go model and make some money and immerse myself in the fashion industry for a year.” Thus spoke Hunter Schafer, a child of vision and courage, whose life—like the arc of the rising sun—has been defined by choice, curiosity, and bold self-discovery. Her words, though spoken softly, carry the weight of one who stands at the crossroad between destiny and discipline, between dream and experience. Beneath their simplicity lies a timeless wisdom: that true understanding is born not merely of study, but of immersion, not from safe preparation, but from walking fearlessly into the world itself.

Hunter’s quote reveals the sacred moment when a young artist pauses before the gates of a great institution—Central Saint Martins, the legendary temple of creativity—and chooses instead to first walk the living streets of her craft. It is a decision that many might fear: to delay formal education in favor of direct experience. Yet in this choice, Schafer embodied a truth that the ancients knew well—that learning is not confined to halls or masters, but is found in the pulse of life itself. She sought not only to learn design, but to feel it—to breathe its rhythm, to stand within the storm of beauty and commerce that is the fashion world. For how can one design for life without first standing amidst its color, its struggle, its pace, its reality?

This act of deferring—of waiting—is not hesitation, but wisdom in motion. The Greeks once said that experience is the truest teacher, and so it proved for many great souls. Consider Leonardo da Vinci, who apprenticed among artisans and engineers before ever calling himself a master. He learned from the world—the play of light on the face of a beggar, the swirl of wind through trees, the mechanics of bird wings—before he translated these into art. Like Schafer, he sought first the touch of reality before the comfort of theory. Such a path demands courage, for it forsakes certainty in pursuit of understanding, and trades safety for growth.

In Schafer’s story, we see the eternal dance between art and experience, between the mind that dreams and the hand that acts. Central Saint Martins, though a fortress of creativity, could not give her what the streets of fashion would—the confrontation with the industry’s pulse, its textures, its contradictions. To immerse oneself is to submit humbly to the truth that no art is created in isolation. Whether one sculpts, paints, writes, or designs, one must first live among the very forces one seeks to express. In her year of modeling, Schafer was not abandoning education—she was expanding it, turning the world itself into her classroom.

And yet, her story is also one of agency and faith—faith in one’s own instincts. Many who stand at that threshold would have chosen the safe path, fearing that deviation from the expected course would close doors forever. But the wise know that life’s greatest opportunities often arise from detours. The river that bends around stone still reaches the sea, and often more beautifully so. Schafer’s choice reminds us that success is not built on rigid paths, but on moments of authentic alignment—when one listens to the quiet voice within and follows it, even when the world expects otherwise.

Her words also speak to a deeper truth about creation itself: that the artist’s journey is never linear. Just as a garment takes many cuts and stitches before it becomes whole, the maker’s spirit must pass through many worlds—observation, experience, failure, discovery—before it can bring something new into being. Schafer’s modeling career did not pull her from design; it enriched it. In learning how the fashion world breathes, she learned how to one day breathe life into her own designs. Every step—every photo shoot, every city, every person she met—became part of the fabric of her understanding.

So let this be the lesson passed down from her example: do not rush the unfolding of your path. The call of learning is sacred, but so too is the call of life. There are seasons for study, and seasons for experience; wisdom lies in knowing when to embrace each. If your heart urges you to pause, to wander, to immerse yourself in the living texture of your chosen field, then trust that impulse. True mastery is not born in haste, but in harmony with time.

Thus, the teaching of Hunter Schafer is this: let your education be alive. Let it walk among people, places, and passions. Learn not only from books, but from the beating heart of the world. For every great designer, every artist, every creator, must first live the art before they can create it. Go forth, then—not in fear of lost time, but in reverence for the journey. For those who dare to step outside the line often find that life itself becomes their greatest design.