Blue jean, baby

I had this design interview late last week, and while I will be professional and not mention the details of said interview (it was poorly conducted), it roused up some feelings in me that I have not been able to get over. 

I have had the honor of being able to travel across the world and work alongside denim manufacturers from the beginning to the end of the process. It was something I'll never forget or take for granted. Unfortunately, this also has cursed me with the knowledge of knowing what I'm talking about when it comes to the product. I'm like a sponge, if I'm interested, I take it all in. I never claim to know much about anything, but I think I can take this one since I was able to learn first hand on a few occasions. In this particular instance, it was apparent that I knew way too much for my own good. I even experienced a few (hypothetical) slaps on the wrist for playing devil's advocate. I mean, really, how am I supposed to dance around the fact that you have no idea what you are talking about? Sorry, I promised I would be more tactful. 

Anyway, since it's been about 6 months now (holy cow!) that I haven't had my hands on a wash sample, I realized after this phone call that I'm passionate about my skills and knowledge in Denim, and not for anything, I will use them against you. Everyone said it was a category you either loved or hated. I kind of landed in the denim world, but quickly formed a fascination with it. It was complex, it was more than met the eye, and everyday was a challenge to overcome. You had to be on your toes or else it could stray very, very, wrong. (ahem, obviously the direction this company was headed. OK, really I'm done now.) I don't think I'll ever want get away from it. I love it. I love it more than the average designer. A jean is a jean is a jean. Not to me they're not. I appreciate every nuance in that pant. Sick in the head? Maybe...but, you can't help what you love and I really do feel maybe I'll always have a hand in it.

Flickr

I know situations like this arise for a lot of people. There's always someone out there that just makes your eyes bulge out of your head. Sometimes it makes me wonder if we're meant to come across these people in order to wake us up to what we truly feel deep down. Like a good ol' flight or fight response, where all of a sudden your passion takes over. It's a good feeling. Although it can also give you an ulcer the size of a grapefruit, the overall feeling you get is a great one. It's good to know who you are. It may have taken me 25 years to figure it out, but I'm pretty happy to finally feel like I get it. It's my New York spark that my mom likes to refer to. At 18, landing in the city, I had the same flight or fight response, but I had no choice. Like they say, in the city you either swim with the big fish or get eaten for dinner - your bones spit in the Hudson. After a night of trying to flee, with no luck, my fight response took up again. From that day forward, NY gave me what I needed that I wasn't getting anywhere else and that was a backbone. No construction worker on the street, HR rep at an internship, or wacko roommate was going to push me around. Each bit of adversity that I overcame built me up into a stronger person that could handle any situation. That's really the best M.O. in life to have. NY didn't make me 'hard', but I'm not soft either... maybe just "hard-boiled" - soft on the inside, tough flexible shell on the outside. ;)