One of my earliest memories of my brand experiencing the taste of potential opportunities it could begin to achieve in the fashion industry was getting five one-of-a-kind garments into an independent Brisbane boutique. I was crazy excited! For many reasons, the obvious of course because what better form of gratification to an artist or business when someone makes an order. And in this case, a boutique who obviously thought that my designs were super sweet and would be perfect for their customer. Another reason was because these were the first (completed) ready-to-wear items I had ever made for my 'label' and the fact I was letting them fly forth from the nest was a huge achievement for me. Another reason was because I believe Poppy was about 5 months old at the time and we were living in an old corner shop in far North (well, the furthest I had ever been) Queensland. A place where every one 'prospers'. Gladstone. Glad-stone. Happy-Rock. So there is where I spent my days with Poppy for I believe over 9 months. There was no hot water, no shower, I guess what you may describe open plan living with an industrial kitchen (of which became my walk in wardrobe of course) and the area you would usually refer to as behind the counter became my 'studio'. There were three toilet options of course as well as the odd and oblivious person pulling up every second day basically walking in to see if we were 'open'. I still fail to understand how they could have possibly mistaken the breast feeding girl hanging out the washing to be a multi-tasking barista. Anyway. I remember receiving the order and was asked to forward through the invoice. Of course I knew what an invoice was, but like many of the opportunities that I have received there is a huge scramble of crazy research and finger crossing that they won't change there mind when they get an inkle-tinkle that I may have never done this before. Lets just say there was two attempts to supply said suitable invoice. Then of course, being my first stockist achievement, the next time I was in Brisbane I stalked the shop... That was probably three or so weeks after it had been put on the rack and I have to say I was a little confused as to why the remaining two garments had accidentally been put on the 50% off rack at the door.. It took aaallllllll of my self control not to buy my precious fluffy jacket and lofty lace skirt and smuggle them back to the nest, after a not so successful first round of flight. This experience was a great one of course, but it also makes me realise looking back that I gave up. Not that I really really see it like that (naive) because I kept designing and creating which led to three runway shows in the next couple months following. But I knew that if I had made more of the things that did sell, the boutique would have bought more, and I may have had a new path to follow, even for a little while. I have this 'problem', which I don't feel is uncommon (thank god?) that I calculate everything too much, and always try to remind myself of the commitments I have or the things I have to do before taking certain steps etc. Yes yes, very practical. But as I understand, there seems to be a very fine line between be practical, and being self- sabotaging. Basically making excuses why you just can't do that thing that has been in your dream box because you have to wait for this, or for that. But tell me, once that must-be-done-first-I-have-priorities task is out of the way, tell me you don't sort of avoid eye contact with yourself and start whistling a tone def tune. The first question I ask myself; Am I afraid of this? (And once the answer is confirmed by the usually scowl, avoided eye contact and half shrug, I move on to;)What exactly am I afraid of? One of the experiences that really showed me an insight into answering these two questions was when I admitted to myself that there may be a few celebrities out there that I would love to dress. But in saying something like this out loud would be admitting the plans of commitment and scale that I would want my business to reach. Well here I am today, and happy to say (that rhymes)I am currently (like right now) in the process of uncapping my green sharpie to mark a big fat tick next to a person on said celeb list. Baby steps. I titled this post Transparency because its what I am trying to be, transparent. For so so soooo long, I have functioned in a somewhat clever and structured fairytale version of reality. (subtle nod to my best friend Walt). A defense mechanism to guard or fill the gaps of my place in social and independent circumstances. I have this flickering image of who I am, but posed rather as a question asking if that is what others see. Or what will they see. Or what they will think. That on a loop before every exit of one's home can obviously lead to some energy exhaustion and evasion. But I am working on it. I guess when I published first of these posts, I knew that I would be talking about stuff and me and more stuff, and being honest about my thoughts etc, then it was only truly a month or so ago that I was like wait what.. do I talk about evveerrryything? What if blah blah reads that, and questions like who am I writing it for, etc etc. But hey, maybe one day I will share something (like outloud) that had happened that you were there for, or what currently goes on presently for me, that my present and closest to me may find insightful. Because to be honest, I have absolutely no idea (that's half true) how much I keep from people and how much I share, in the scheme of things. And I see all these brave people sharing their bodies, beliefs, experiences and stories and I relate to sooo many of them that I feel a hunger seeing them. But then I realise I don't even show some of those things with my most trusted, a lot of things yes, but they are edited and carefully put together. I am only just starting to realise how much of a control freak/perfectionist/teensy bit OCD I am. Its sort of relieving.
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AuthorCalming a chaotic mind. Archives
September 2018
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