By the end of my tenure in corporate fashion, I would approach each oncoming season with dread. Not that I didn't still love inventing things (as my friend, Katie sweetly put it), but that I was bracing myself for the rounds of bullshit that came with each new season.
If that statement sounds jaded, that's because it is. I became deeply jaded, to the point that I really didn't even want to talk to myself at times. All the passion that I'd come to my career with at 21 had been slowly wrung out of me. When I went shopping, all I could see looking a the clothes was the stress, heartache and anxiety that I imaged was their back story. How had something so joyful and silly as fashion given me a case of PTSD? How had I let that happen to something that was once a passion?
I probably shouldn't admit this publicly, because it surely means no HR department will hire me in the future, but I say it because it seems to be something echoed among much of my peer group- not just in fashion, but in other creative fields. As a youngn', we opt for a career that rewards in creativity, (and not so much in money), but by our late 30's we are just spent. We've just seen to much.
Which is why this week I have to say Hallelujah. I'm preparing to head out to Minnesota tomorrow to design Fall '13. This is my third collection for Bryr, and to be honest I can't wait. I am filled with nervous butterflies about what it will be. Excited and nervous like a 16 year old before her first date. I have found my joy again, and I feel so blessed to be given a second chance to follow this passion.