Just a disclaimer up front: I am in no mood to put up with close-minded people on this particular issue, so if you do not believe in the metaphysical either don't click or please don't comment. I've debated on whether to post this and if it looks like this is better suited for my livejournal or something, I'll delete this then but please just indulge this wish.
Ever since Naomi and I decided to partner up and start our own brand, we've spent our relationship in a near constant state of feeling each other out--trying to keep an open mind and becoming sensitive to each others strengths and weaknesses, specialities, aesthetics, etc. Today we learned, what was already expected by me, but now we know: I am not meant to be a costume designer. Period. Not for a movie, or a play, or a band; it doesn't matter. At the risk of sounding totally crazy, I'm going to say something, I have a bit of a sense about somethings. It's not a particularly strong one, but (as related to fashion) I get a feeling from different fabrics. Sometimes I go into a store and pick up a bolt of fabric and know what that fabric needs to become, not by looking at it, I just know. And when I go in with a specific pattern/design in mind I am attracted to the fabrics that fit the feeling of the piece.
Through the course of working with the members of Marquis of Vaudeville on this project, I feel like I've just been run through the wringer. I pull fabrics that are right for the design and would look good on the member it's for, and I get repeatedly shot down. They say the person would not like that fabric ever. I have garments that I don't like the print of, but I have them because they flatter me. They pull other fabrics that the person would like and when I see the fabric, it's like there's a hand in my chest squeezing at my insides. I feel emotionally and spiritually constrained by the sight of it and I want nothing more than for it to be far, far away from me. But I tried not to say anything. Then as we were trying to confirm that Toby wanted the expensive (and amazing) silk for his lining and piping, he found this awful patterned fabric that was busy and glittery and I tried so hard. I don't want them to think I'm a freak but as soon as he walked away I was nearly overcome by the pressure in my chest--my hands were shaking and I was on the verge of hyperventilating.
I'm just no good at shopping with a specific persons' taste in mind. I just know that if I make what I feel is right, and spare no expense and effort to make the piece everything that it needs to be, then there will be a customer for it. it may not sell for years, but someday, some person will walk into my store (or webshop) and say that that is exactly what they needed/wanted. And I'll know that that's true. But to go in with the customer and say, "this is it, this is the fabric," because I can feel that it is and to have them tell me it's wrong. It's like exposing my soul, and being told it's not good enough. It's heartbreaking. And I'm probably taking it too hard, but I've spent my entire life ignoring and suppressing my "sensitivity" that I'm not in a place where I am even willing to shut it off to please a client. Someday, when I have more experience/control with it, maybe, but right now I need to listen to those feelings when they choose to manifest themselves. If I can't do that with them, then maybe I should step back from this now and let Naomi take over MoV's costumes. Just maybe.
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