Chaos. I really dislike it. I dislike that right now, in the third week of summer, stores are clearing their shelves of everything summer and dumping it into the clearance section so they can move on to back-to-school and then fall/holiday. In stubbornly opposing this rhythm, I am entering the chaos.
But in fact, I have picked a job, at a time in history, that sits right on a fault line.
In 2013, I would frequent a shop on Fifth Avenue, nestled among the very most prestigious stores and across the street from Central Park. Inside were wood hangers, perfectly spaced, and tables spread with neatly folded garments. It was a shop called Joe Fresh, a Canadian version of H&M that leaned more French. So though this shop looked like Dior next door, it was affordable, and I belonged.
That same year, a garment factory in Bangladesh collapsed, killing more than 1,100 people and injuring hundreds more. The workers had complained of cracks forming in the walls the week before, but as was standard practice, the exit doors were locked during work hours. Overburdened with heavy sewing and cutting equipment, the under-code building collapsed and killed those inside. In the rubble was the brand Joe Fresh.
The exact moment I was experiencing real fashion - democratized, affordable, attainable - it was crushing those who made it.
Though I didn’t know it at the time, I was entering into a conversation that would alter the course of my life and the lives of everyone making clothing with me.
As that garment factory collapsed into rubble, there was a shockwave that is still resounding in the souls of designers and manufacturers and consumers who are working hard to do things a new way.
That’s what you feel when you wear my skirts. You twirl, put your hands in the pockets, adjust the elastic, and begin to care about a lot of things - not the least of which is yourself.
As someone experienced with chaos, you see that intention in my designs - not of escaping chaos, but of finding space and calm within it. Soft fabrics, pockets, elastic, color, and beauty become a kind of rest and security that allow us to navigate, exist, and thrive right where we need to be: in the midst of the chaos.
Welcome to this season of my business, thank you for being here.