What inspires you?
I’ll probably write in this blog quite a bit about inspiration. I’m a designer, an artist, a writer, after all. I post a lot about (these days, it’s all I’ve been posting about) Etsy Treasuries my work has been added to. Today I created a Treasury of my own. It’s called Spring Stripes, and my inspiration was a beautiful top that we just got in for spring at the clothing store I work at. Yep, I made a Treasury based off of visions I have of this lovely shirt. I love it, I want it in my closet. It’s out of my price range at the moment, but maybe once it goes on the sale rack, I’ll bite. If there are any left, that is.
Being around beautiful clothes while I’m working at my retail job is nonstop inspiration. It’s torture sometimes, in fact, since I wish I could buy about a quarter of our pieces. Some of you know that my first career aspiration was to be a fashion designer. I wanted to do that for many, many years; from fifth grade into high school. I collected fashion magazines, drew in my sketchbooks, researched colleges that offered fashion-design degrees. But my love of sports won out, and I ended up choosing a school that had a major I could study and also play competitive softball.
Sometimes I wonder if I should have pursued my dream to be a fashion designer. Recently, I’ve really been wondering about it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy with the route I took in becoming a photographer/writer/graphic designer. But clothes do remain a passion of mine.
Two of my friends are fashion designers. Stacie is studying in Chicago to earn her degree, and Kori graduated recently and is currently a manager at my clothing store. She’s even gotten the chance to show her designs to Tim Gunn!
For now, I’ll continue to read my fashion magazines, live vicariously through Stacie and Kori, lust after clothes at my retail job, talk fashion with my coworkers and friends, and rock my wardrobe in my own style. I know I’ll be in the audience at Fashion Week someday (hopefully in Paris), and maybe my job–as a graphic designer–will even land me in the front row.
Hey, a girl can dream.