I'ma Workin' Girl

I suppose I should say a bit about my new job. I hesitated to give any commentary too soon, wanting to get a feel for things first. I wasn't overly thrilled about taking a job in Utah. It's not that I had preemptively decided against it, I just had never thought of it as an option. I'm working for the only legitimate apparel company in Utah, as I see it, and half our design team is based out of Sydney, Australia. the pickin's here are slim! I'm still adjusting to the idea of being here, in Utah, pursuing fashion design. (I do love it here but I loathe the dating scene. That's another post in and of it's self.)

My first few weeks at work have been good and bad. The only bad part is not being my own, full fledged designer. I LOVE being back in the fashion industry atmosphere. I LOVE wearing dressy clothes to work everyday. I LOVE that I have my own agenda and could go several hours working at my desk before needing to talk to anybody. I'm not anti-social, but anyone who knows anything about my last "fashion industry" job knows I had a hard time with my hovering/controlling manager, though I love her dearly. My new boss-woman is the complete opposite. Not only does she trust me to get things done and trust me to ask questions when I don't understand, she's way funny- all the dry and quick-witted humor I can handle. I find myself shaking with laughter from behind my desk trying not to reveal how funny I actually think she is. As is always the case with fashion industry jobs, I work mainly with women, which I don't mind. I'm the assistant designer to two designers. One works from our Salt Lake office and the other works from her San Francisco home. We're just finishing up our Spring 2011 line and beginning all the preliminary work for Fall 2011. The early stage of design is the most fun. It's at this point where you have creative input and get to see things develop. By the end of the season, which is where we are right now, I'm pretty much Photoshopping my brains out and emailing revisions to our factories in China and our Sydney office. My day, today for example, consisted of Excel spreadsheets. So many spreadsheets. Thankfully, my off-location designer is coming to the office in a couple weeks to start working on mock-ups. Her designs make-up about half the collection consistently. She's really good. I'm excited that I've been assigned her to work with.

Every once in a while I have moments in my life (separated, of course, by long spells of failure) where I feel like I've arrived. One such moment was during my internship at the costume studio in Hollywood during my first year of school. I was working on Giselle's dress for Enchanted and was required to deliver it to a location on Hollywood Boulevard. There I was, driving up Hollywood in my oh-so-glamorous blue Subaru with a huge, white, puffy dress sparkling with glitter and embellishments obstructing the view in my rear view mirror. I was looking earnestly for the address when suddenly before me were those iconic white letters on the hill- "Hollywood." The empowering feeling of being in school and the newness of my life came together at that moment and encouraged me onward like never before. I had a similar feeling at work last week on my way to a fitting. Coming from the studio part of the office, where my desk is located, I rounded the hallway, striding (in my high heels, of course) through a sea of cubicles as I made my way to the designated fitting room carrying just a clipboard under my arm. To my right was a fit model, carrying several dresses she had steamed out and prepared for the fitting. To my left was the factory managers who had arranged the fitting and were waiting on my approval of the fit and design to proceed with production. And all around me were the call center staff who envied me because I worked in the design department... the ultimate department to be in if you're working for a design company. It wasn't me who had to arrange the fitting. I just had to show up. It wasn't me who steamed out the dresses or carried them or did any of the grunt work. I just had to show up. Upon my convenience, it is organized. I walk to the fitting, not carrying a single dress, not having steamed out a single crease. I just carry my notebook and camera and take a seat. When the fitting is over, I don't clean up. I leave. For that small moment, I felt like I had arrived... at one station, at least. Of course, I won't ever be satisfied until I'm the head designer, calling the shots and not spending a minute on an excel spreadsheet or emailing factories incessantly over missed revision points.

Tonight on my run (as my blog posts always digress to- that is, some thought I had while running), I was wondering what has been the worst part about training for this marathon. I discovered immediately that the worst part (aside from trots) has been the fear of injury or inability, that actual runs, though painful, are shorter then the fret about them that happens sometimes the whole 48 hours previous. I haven't had serious injury, but all the time while I'm running I'm mentally focused on any small ache, fearing it may become worse. And still, I worry I may not be able to do it. Then I thought how sad that fear, so unnecessary and unproductive, is the thing that has cankered me.

All through Katie's single, young adult life she told me how old and undatable she is. This started when she was 23. She was always so afraid she would never marry. I'm sure she would agree with me that fear was the worst part of her young, single adult years. I wonder how different life could be if we were strong enough to throw out fear and trust in eventual and "overwhelming" success. In this aspect of gospel living, I see myself as the most faithless person I know. I shamefully admit that I'm a pessimist by nature and am apt to count on my failure than I am on my success. My brother Travis is like that, too. How can someone who just finished his PhD in freaking Neuroscience be bothered by so many feelings of intellectual inadequacy? It must be a family trait. In any case, that was my thought and it opened my eyes to faith, again. Doesn't it feel like you relearn principles time and time again that you had considered to be in the bag? Prayer is that for me. I somehow always forget how powerful prayer can be. But, thankfully, am reminded and retaught over and over again.

And again, I'll leave you with a song I'm crushing on: