Near the end of my internship, one of my co-workers asked if I wanted to join her to take a look at a brand called Jolibe. I was always a fan of these field trips and was quick to reply in the affirmative. Carefully navigating the slush littering the sidewalks, we traveled south and east before arriving at our destination.
The elevator of the building opened directly into a small studio. I loved the way that so much creativity could be contained in such a small space. It's one of those things that I loved about New York. A few racks of clothing stood at the end nearest the windows. Further into the room sat a computer and sewing machines. After introductions were made, my co-worker began discussing the clothes with the designer and his business partner.
I loved these trips for many reasons. Getting to view up close the creations of designers I had barely heard of. Catching a peek of a small photo shoot for the pages of Vogue. Recognizing pieces previously worn by stars. Imagining which pieces I would buy for myself if that ever became possible. But the best part was hearing the designers talk about what inspired them. Their vision. What led them to make that dress. Or this necklace.
I often find myself in awe of those who naturally possess the ability to create. Beyond sitting at my Casio keyboard at the age of 11 and composing little ditties when I should have been practicing my violin or doing my French homework, my creativity rarely stretched beyond the problem solving skills needed for math tests and lab experiments. My writing has always been at its best when observational. Weaving tales is not my forte.
So I would listen and try to understand. The understanding never fully came. I couldn't twist my mind in that way.
But the appreciation was always amplified.
No comments:
Post a Comment