Lawrence Central High School student Ja’Via Johnson knew she wanted to wear something lavender, with a corset and fluffy train, to her senior prom.
In February, she took this vague idea to Mondriana Brown and her home-based fashion business, Monies Closet. The 24-year-old self-taught fashion designer has become sought after because she can create elaborate designs that can’t be found anywhere else.
This year, she has nine prom clients — the most she’s ever worked with. She’s made five dresses and four suits this season. She turned Johnson’s idea into a custom lavender sequined mermaid dress. For Johnson’s boyfriend, Jaidon Harper, Brown created a beaded gray suit.
“We kept having fittings and really it became a dress. I love it!” she said.
Just a few years ago Brown was one of many high school seniors around the country who missed their prom due to COVID-19. Now, she finds herself in the mix as a spectator, turning into a fashion fairy godmother as she works with her tools — a sewing needle, thread and scissors — to make last-minute alterations for clients.
“I have a pretty unconventional way of putting things together. My brain kinda just breaks things up into shapes depending on what is asked of me.”
— Mondriana Brown, prom dress designer
Prom has evolved as a tradition for Black teens across the U.S. Black families use it as a vehicle to honor the hard work that went into graduating high school. The send-off is the main event where a teen is showered in love and support. The usual 30-minute mini family reunion acts as a processional.
“It’s a lot riding on you when you’re such a big part in this family’s prom journey,” Brown said. “I’m making the main item, tensions can be high and it’s high stakes. I’m grateful I’m even chosen.”
If it’s a fashion challenge, try Monies Closet
Brown didn’t pick up her craft until her junior year at Warren Central High School, when she took a fashion and textiles class. After graduating, she worked as an assistant to local fashion designer Vivien Jackson.
When looking at her designs, you would be surprised to learn she freehands it all. And she does not use sewing patterns.
“I have a pretty unconventional way of putting things together. My brain kinda just breaks things up into shapes depending on what is asked of me,” Brown said, jokingly. “When someone brings out a pattern, I get overstimulated.”
At first she was just making up to two dresses from spandex and mesh. For Johnson’s dress, she tried her hand at 3D flower appliques.
For another client, 17-year-old Taylor Moncrief, she created a fully beaded gold gown with detached sleeves that took 20 to 30 hours to make.
“It’s very cool and very fun … to see their faces when they’re in the items and they love and their parents love it,” Brown said. “It’s a full circle moment.”
‘They should just let us be happy’
But, dresses like the ones Brown makes can get ridiculed online for their over-the-topness and lavishness. And, for the amount of money students spend on them. Brown’s custom prom suits and dresses can cost between $250-$500 and $1,200-$1,900.
Each prom season, many Black kids who share their prom outfits and send-off celebrations, face online harassment under the social media hashtag #hoodprom. Johnson has seen how teens like herself get attacked by online commenters simply for sharing their prom photos.
“They be saying we think it’s a wedding or something. It’s our senior year … just let us do our biggest one,” the 18-year-old said with a smile. “I feel like they should just let us be happy.”
In a recent viral video, a white TikTok creator compared “hood prom” to baby mama culture. In April, a Black teen shared a video of his prom send-off where he was forced to turn off the comment section as he was met with AI-generated memes that hinted at him working at a fast food restaurant after high school.
Even as a fashion designer, Brown can’t evade the negative Facebook and TikTok comments. She said most of the online debate doesn’t include what she sees behind the scenes. Some of her clients’ parents pay for the dresses, but other students work multiple jobs to help split or cover the full costs.
Historically, when Black people have been excluded from social events they’ve found other ways to celebrate themselves. The big American high school dance also has a troubled origin story riddled with classism, segregation and strict dress codes.
Brown sees it as a way for students to be treated like royalty as they step into a new area of life.
“It can help set up your confidence. Confidence is so needed in this world as a little Black girl … because everything else is trying to tear you down,” Brown said. “Prom is something that a lot of these girls can control.”
All eyes on you
On prom day — April 18 — Johnson walked out of her bedroom into the living room of her mother’s home on the north east side of Indianapolis. Her family decorated the room with a slim silver carpet and purple balloons and taped a “PROM 2K26” sign to the wall for her prom sendoff.
As Brown made a few small modifications to the dress, Johnson’s mother, Alexis Clemons, helped her daughter step into her silver heels. Meek Mill’s and Nicki Minaj’s 2015 hit “All Eyes On You” played on a loop in the background.
Johnson stood before the family officially ready, looking like a queen on coronation day. In unison, her parents, aunts and distant relatives transformed into her personal paparazzi, snapping away to capture one of her final high school moments. They shouted: “This is your prom, girl,” “Absolutely,” “Gorgeous,” “You look good” and “This is what we want to see!”
Her grandmother, LaVerta Patterson, and stepmother, Layvonne Johnson, got emotional, too.
The party moved outside, where Johnson and Harper were met with more family who were there to see them off. Their prom car — a silver convertible — jetted off to the Indiana Roof Ballroom downtown.
Clemons said she felt like it was fitting to go all out for her daughter’s prom. In the fall, the straight-A student will head to IU Bloomington to study nursing as a first-generation college student.
“She is the oldest of my three. She’s been a good kid all around,” she said. “Every generation is gonna do something different. Let these kids be kids, and have fun.”
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Mirror Indy reporter Mesgana Waiss covers arts and culture. Contact her at 317-667-2643 or mesgana.waiss@mirrorindy.org.
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