The other day, I called up my friend Joanne. I hadn’t talked
to her since my Mardi Gras party, and I knew she had taken a trip to New York
shortly afterwards.
We dispatched my status update quickly. I shared a few
details around my efforts to build traffic for this blog and find people who’d
be interested in Attitude of Gratitude
writing workshops. We skimmed the topic of my diet and the progress she had
made with her personal trainer, an ex-marine who’s not afraid to admit he’s
partial to Pilates. Then I settled in for a good New York story.
The hotel she stayed at in Murray Hill, which she thought
was going to be posh, turned out to be like a space-saving dorm-o-tel for
student travelers, furnished by IKEA. She relayed how she found the perfect pair
of black pants at Bergdorf-Goodman, a retail empire I have never ventured into,
after finding the perfect New York type of sales lady. You know, the kind that
almost immediately announces, I know just
the thing – and does. We laughed.
Then she told me the story of her Made in America dream.
Joanne is a very special lady who has taken to a common
calling for women and re-invented it.
She loves retail, but she loves to do it her way. She loves quality fabrics; how different elements of a
person’s look might come together. She has a knack for inward thinking, looking
to her own experiences of fashion and shopping, and also looking outward,
scanning the Internet or taking special side adventures when traveling, to
think of ways she could turn what she values into a successful business.
She ran a shoe business some years ago, starting with both a
clear vision and a willingness to adapt. She ran a small storefront carrying
lines she loved, securing arrangements, at some points, with manufacturers that
could make nice knock-offs of favorite designer offerings. She fine-tuned her
niche to focus on wedding shoes, developed an attractive and functional website,
then ended up closing her storefront and doing extremely well selling wedding
shoes online. Who’d have thunk it?
As I listened to her tell me her plans for starting a new clothing
line -- the types of styles and fabrics she’d feature, her emphasis on classic
over trendy, how her idea sprang from her own unfulfilled desire for attractive,
no-fuss day dresses that would be wonderful for spontaneous trips – I had to
smile at her enthusiasm. When she told me about how she was led by a Wall
Street Journal article to contact a small garment factory in New York
during her trip, I was filled with admiration for her spunk.
Who wouldn’t want to
look like Marilyn Monroe in one of those classic sundresses? she asked
rhetorically after talking about her line’s name, how she plans to handle photography
and sell the line without opening a store, how she worked out minimums with the
factory manager she met based on the feature in the WSJ. Real quality, classic fashions MADE IN AMERICA, she went on. That’s a great story.
After she closed her shoe business, she went into a sort of
cocooning mode. Not being clear about what she wanted to do next, she sat with
her emptiness until she knew what she wanted to do. And when she was ready, I
could tell she was filled with conviction as well as ideas. I have no doubt she
is going to make this happen. The joy that pulsed through her at the notion of
making something new a concrete, marketable, job-generating enterprise – was
palpable.
And I found myself falling in love with her creation; a
concept for a line of clothing, and I am not even a fashionista. Bringing
something new into the world is no small thing.
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