The morning of the show began before the sun had fully risen. The air was cool and heavy with dew when we reached the garden gates. Workers were still moving crates of plants, and the sound of wheels over gravel echoed softly in the stillness.

I carried the first garment bag myself. It felt important not to hand it off. The fabric inside seemed fragile, like it needed my arms to get it where it was meant to go.

Aisha walked beside me, her hands full of ribbons and clips. Laila followed a few ...