I swear fashion isn’t what you think it is. Countless times I’ve heard fashion doesn’t matter to me. So you are telling me you roll out of bed whatever material happens to adhere itself to your body is what you wear? Let’s just cover the naughty bits and get on with our day? Go on, try this. Please. I’ll wait right here. Let me know how this goes. In fact, simply put on someone else jeans, even in your size. Fashion does matter. We ALL choose things because they reflect who we are, what we reflect onto the world and what we are comfortable in. So tell me again, fashion doesn’t matter to you.
As a business owner I have to be aware of what side my business takes, if any. There was a point that I struggled with how much to reveal. Do I keep my brand separate from me as a person? Do I swear as a brand? Because as a person, I swear a whoooole lot. Do I have separate instagram accounts? Where does my brand start and I as a person, end?
I went back and forth on this many times. It all changed after an article on Startup Fashion (tried to find to no avail), I finally chose. The article read if I were to be honest (and I am honestly a person who says fuck) and if I was looking to keep my brand authentic, I would use my own voice. Authentic attracts authentic. I love creating in my house and making things but I always struggle with the marketing aspect. It makes me feel silly, pushy and fake. When I feel things are fake I lose interest as a brand and a consumer. I have no time for inauthenticity.
So onto where I’m really heading. In the last few
weeks months year our political climate is mirroring our actual climate; Shit is getting pretty scary. I have had to choose a side, not such a hard choice. I had to choose my level of involvement and where I feel comfortable posting my opinions and my involvements.
I’ve had to make some choices. My facebook has 2 sides my brand & me as a person. Pretty easy choice as far as that goes. My personal facebook posts are filled with scathing political rants. My brand remains filled with posts about art, women, and relatively passive posts. I have 1 Twitter and 1 Instagram. My original thought was I didn’t want to deal with 2 separate accounts and don’t post enough on either to support 2 accounts. My Twitter account is mostly brand stuff with my personal mixed in. My Instagram is brand stuff but much more personal. Then as the political climate heated up, much like our changing climate -how poetic. My social media has taken a turn.
As I got more involved, I got more pissed. Partially fueled by my anger at what has become normal, partially decided by it was becoming harder to hide.
I knew my choices as a consumer were becoming more defined by companies and the stances they took. I cheered when a designer upon getting an order from Ivanka Trump also let her know her purchase would be going right into the Hillary Clinton campaign. I would simply be a hypocrite if I hid myself. So here the fuck I am.
I am a woman business owner who refuses to let my country be sacrificed to a dictator and all his little whims. This election was fucking bloody.
We are all in a mortal battle for all that is right and wrong and it goes far beyond political parties. A madman fed on the anger of a nation and is selling them what they think they wanted, someone to blame.
Nope doesn’t sound at all familiar….
The majority spoke. The majority was ignored. Our country is sick. The people who show up on the street, people who refuse to not sit back and watch the ugliness from their TVs are the fucking heros. We have a lot of true life heroes these days. Good thing because we have a hell of a lot of villains. I am so tired of “my side” as being classified as lazy, whiny and jobless.
I will be on the front lines. I will be loud. I will get into uncomfortable conversations with those I love as well as complete strangers. I don’t fucking care if someone has no interest in buying from my business because I think all people have the same rights and that I care about life, not just while it’s in the womb. If you want to know where I stand, ASK. I will most certainly tell you. I will not be silent, muted or uninvolved.
My business is my child and I refuse to raise a child that has no opinion-
In fact, that bitch is fucking pissed.
And yes, I can spell easy.
Self expression can be daunting. In the last few weeks many people are finding themselves expressing themselves perhaps far more than even planned, including me. It’s great to live somewhere that we can express ourselves.
I salute those who speak up.
Make choices. Make decisions. Don’t let your laziness, support your apathy.
Don’t let those choices solely be made by others’ because you feel you mean too little.
And yes, shopping is voting.
Vote for the business practices you want to support.
Personally, I could only ever support a candidate that supports local businesses, manufacturing locally and sourcing locally and above all ETHICALLY
Actions always speak louder than words
Madame President —-we’ve come so far
I know spiders creep people out. Like bees, most people run but they don’t bother me at all. I am well known for finding spiders and escorting them to a nice plant outside. My best spider catch involved a descending spider and a well-placed wine glass. I do get grumpy when people kill them UNLESS of course they descend on you in the shower. A girl has to have her limits. If a spider comes at me while I am enjoying a shower and at my most vulnerable– I will take you down Miss spider. Watching spiders build webs is amazing!!! How can I hate something that much like a designer takes pieces of things and makes something from very little into a whole other thing. Spiders are fucking amazing. Don’t like mosquitoes? Love your local spiders more! I have tunnel spiders ALL over outside my house and I am very careful to not hurt their webs and have been know to throw them a little bonus bug if the mood and opportunity strikes.
Being delightfully wrong
Yesterday marked an end to a era with the final day of the final grateful Dead show. I am lucky enough to live a short distance from Soldier Field. Despite me not having a ticket (and I was not buying one for $400-$800) that wasn’t going to stop me from walking the final Dead Lot. It’s a scene I knew at one point very well but my music tastes have since moved more in other directions.
It was like visiting an old friend. The train ride was unlike any other- softer, sweeter. This ride featured a sing-a-long complete with an acoustic guitar version of “Ripple”. We disembarked from the train and there was a man already looking for a miracle. I felt like I was at a wake for a friend that I had long lost touch with, but I wanted to show them my last respects; A little invasive to be there with all of their closest friends and family. Perhaps some guilt at not seeing this friend for many years, a bit like encountering my younger self weaving through the lot. I never actually saw the Dead when Jerry was alive. My memories are of nights driving around the woods in Western NY country roads with my best friend, blasting bootlegs. My formative years were spent in a scene that the Dead created and nourished. I can only imagine there were many tears shed as the final songs played. Fare Thee well.
Today I cant even believe how many people I know that are just at the precipice of awesomeness in the last week. So this is gonna be a long one with lots of nice things about great people whom I love–Sorry ’bout that.
My brother is all set for some new cool things at his job and I’m terribly proud of all the work he’s done to get to a place he likes, doing pretty cool stuff that he likes to do. So awesome. He’s just this cool person that I’m so glad to know and have watched evolve over the years. So proud.
My dear friend, Erin who is crazy brave and exudes life & warmth. Her charm is utterly undeniable. Well she is preparing to go to NY FASHION WEEK!!!!!!!! OMG!!!!!!! Please go check out her fundraising campaign on Indiegogo!!!! I loved to go through school with her @ SAIC!!! I’ve grown up as a designer with her. Erin is someone who has always encouraged me at every tiny little step while being one of my best critics. I can NOT WAIT to see her collection. So, so cool.
And last but not least my mom has been showing her Pomeranian, Emily. Emmy regularly makes an appearance on my Instagram, because seriously she is the freaking cutest dog. She is so tiny and she WORKS the runway, I’m told. (She is also making an appearance in my upcoming Bookish collection along with my brother). I apologize for my lack of correct terms and such but Emmy won!!! I’m not sure exactly what it’s called like- “Best Bitch”?. Ok it’s not exact but it’s not far off. She has a point towards being a champion. It’s a big deal. I am so proud of my mom for dusting off her grooming skills and doing Emmy’s winning show cut but also being the handler to show her. It’s pretty cool considering my mom’s “normal” relationship to animals is her running her rescue New Leash on Life and tending to far too many animals. It’s so awesome to see her not only do this pretty scary thing but to WIN at it against people who are completely professional. Seriously, watch- Best In Show. You have NO idea. And then as a little cool thing I hope I got a dog adopted to an awesome home for her. It would be awesome to help out her that way.
Congratulations to all you amazing people and I am so proud of all of you!!!! My only regret is you all had to share a post, well that and my brother was in a post called “Best Bitch”. I am just so proud and excited for you all!
This story is so amazing and the photos are all so beautiful. I just adore this visually and what a lovely story.
This entry is dedicated to my mom in honor of her birthday. She loves and cares for every single animal completely unconditionally. She is the woman who taught me how to embrace the things that may make me seem extra crazy to everyone else. Thanks Mom for making everything more fun from chasing ducks on a frozen lake in a blizzard, to throwing cats in a van, to watching you herd your vulture with a broom so I could look at your fancy chickens. To the woman who has made me find laughter everywhere; You’ve given all my stories more color.
No, Mom do not get a lion.
…And the title- those are her words right before the prairie dog attacked me… True story.