A soft-spoken sewing geek from Fargo, N.D., seems like an unlikely candidate to lead the budding independent fashion scene in the Twin Cities. But that's exactly what 31-year-old Anna Lee is doing.

This Wednesday, her annual magnum opus -- the Voltage fashion and rock show -- will blast off at First Avenue, with designers, models and bands galore. Preparation takes almost half a year.

This time last month, Lee had gathered Voltage's design panel at a warehouse in north Minneapolis. A few of the show's designers were presenting their unfinished outfits for a progress report.

It was like a scene out of the hit TV show "Project Runway." But instead of Heidi Klum and Tim Gunn, the panel was made up of local fashion mavens: a couple of boutique owners, a Target designer, a veteran dressmaker, etc.

Lee sat off to the side, wearing a long black skirt and red leather jacket. Wrapped around her neck was a furry, blue scarf-hood thingy she made herself. (She calls it a "hood wrap.")

After designer Kerry Riley finished showing the panel her raw designs, Lee asked her: "I know you like working under pressure, but realistically, how are you feeling about pumping these out in time?"

Biting her lip, Riley assured Lee she would be ready. Afterward, Riley said she always welcomes a good "kick in the pants."

"I want to make her proud," she added.

While Lee continues to produce one of the scene's most talked-about shows, she has bigger plans for Twin Cities fashion. She wants to build a fashion industry out of the area's many young, unknown designers.

But striving to accomplish that feat -- through shows such as Voltage and other projects -- can become a grind when you're already working full time for Target's design firm. So in January, after five years of balancing corporate demands and her own DIY dream, Lee quit Target. Ever since, she's been creating projects and scouring the Twin Cities for allies in her fashion crusade.

"I like to downplay my idealism," she said.

Finding her fashion sense

For Lee, it's been a long, winding road from feeling like a "fashion alien" in Fargo.

"When I was younger, my mom said, 'I don't want you to go into fashion and starve!'" Lee said, joking.

But she kept reading Vogue, kept sketching designs and was eventually wearing her own handmade outfits in college. She remembers crashing Fargo bars in wild purple dresses with rhinestones glued to her eyelids. "I felt like the token fashion designer in Fargo," she said. After some time at Moorhead State, she was outta there, heading to the big city in the spring of 2000.

"When I moved to the Twin Cities, I had three goals: take flamenco lessons, learn Italian and make hats," Lee said.

She's tried them all, but her flamboyant hats and fashion in general became her focus. After spending a few years at two children's clothing manufacturers, she found her way to the design behemoth: Target. There, she became a technical designer, which meant she controlled the fit and manufacturing specifications on clothes.

"I'm a total nerd about clothing construction and the science of how clothes go together," she said.

Voltage is born

It was during Lee's first year in the corporate world that the idea for an indie fashion/rock show was hatched.

A close friend, Elizabeth Gardner, remembers the first Voltage in 2004 being a lot less structured than today's. There was no design panel and no coaching, she said.

"It was just show up on the day of the show and have your 10 garments," said Gardner, the show's technical director.

Today, the show is highly orchestrated with 60 models strutting to the music of six buzz-worthy bands. In all, about 200 people are involved in the production.

While Voltage is definitely a crowd pleaser -- it sold out last year -- the high-concept show has its critics.

Andrew Lawrence Schiff designed for J.Crew, Club Monaco and the Gap before moving here to work for Target a few years ago. "I had just come from New York and thought I had landed in a Midwestern cultural wasteland," the 44-year-old said.

But after attending Voltage, Schiff was impressed with Lee and wanted to help out -- and maybe offer a few suggestions.

"What I didn't like about Voltage was how loose it was, and I gave that feedback to Anna," he said.

Now on the design panel, he sees his role as the hardened industry veteran, willing to dish out unfiltered advice to young designers. Lee, he said, is "kind of like the fairy godmother of the design youth. "

He enjoys volunteering his time if it means a new generation of designers will make something of themselves in this cutthroat industry.

"She's reaching out [to people like me] and realizing that if this is going to grow into something bigger, it can't be 'fly by the seat of your pants,'" Schiff said.

Building a scene

Some of Voltage's "graduates" have gone onto bigger things. A year after showing her clothes in 2005's Voltage, Katherine Gerdes became a contestant on the third season of "Project Runway."

"Ultimately, I think it was my Voltage collection that Tim Gunn and the [TV show's] panel really loved in my portfolio and the reason they moved me to the next round," she said.

Other scenesters, such as the women behind the local fashion-and-art blog l'étoile , speak highly of Lee.

"Before she really got involved and wrangled all these people, the fashion scene seemed kind of ramshackle," said Kate Iverson, l'étoile's arts editor.

While Lee likes being a hub for the scene, she'll be the first to tell you that there are actually many fashion scenes. The Twin Cities' many boutique owners, models, makeup artists, fiber artists and Target designers don't necessarily run in the same circles.

"I know I have this really idealistic notion of 'Can't we all just get along and make something?' But in my experience, that can really work," Lee said. "Everybody should come together because then it evolves from a bunch of scenes into a local industry. And that's what I want to do with MNfashion."

Project juggling

MNfashion is the name Lee has given to her vision of an organization that can act as a nexus for local designers, models and stylists who need support in the fashion scene. It'll work much like an arts nonprofit, providing resources and mentoring. Springboard for the Arts is helping Lee work toward gaining nonprofit status. Right now, she's putting together a board and a budget.

In the meantime, she's juggling several other projects. She's producing a 1950s-inspired fashion show for the Minnesota History Center's Retrorama 3 in May. She's working with MNArtists.org on a quarterly fashion photography competition. On Saturday, she'll unveil her own Ruby3 cycling line of "clothes for ladies who bike in skirts," as part of Voltage Fashion Weekend (see sidebar). She and Gerdes are also planning a sewing co-op for local designers.

She's helping out on other people's projects, too. Recently, Kathy Mouacheupao, who runs the Center for Hmong Arts and Talent, asked Lee to speak to a group of Hmong designers who will be featured in the organization's July fashion show, Fresh Traditions.

"She's able to see the fashion industry for more than what we see on TV," Mouacheupao said. "She's really able to get the designers grounded in what's realistic -- not that you can't make it out there in New York. If that's where you want to go, she's very cool about helping you make a plan for that."

Lee thinks big things can happen right here in Minnesota. "I'm very invested in this part of the world," she said. And in the months since she left Target, a lot has happened. Every day is a new idea for her.

"Now all of a sudden all these different things are becoming possible," she said.

As for Voltage, the project nearest to her heart, this year's edition is extra-special. It's timed to come exactly 10 years after her first fashion show, which took place in Fargo. While much has changed since then, she still gets nervous before the big night.

Every year since Voltage began, Lee has the same nightmare, she said. It comes in the busy months leading up to the show.

In it, Voltage is happening the next day and the show is being held in a strip mall. And nobody is there.

"It only happens once a year," she said, sounding relieved.

"I think it's one of those things where no matter how successful you can be, it's important to keep yourself realistic," she added. "I see it as a good sign that I get these recurring dreams."

Tom Horgen • 612-673-7909