Job Hazards

I live in a 110 year old home that has forced me — or rather, allowed me to renovate, redecorate, and otherwise refurbish it’s seven bedrooms a few times over.  There’s no traditional “family room” or “play room” or “media room”, just lots and lots of bedrooms with, it should be noted, the world’s tinest closets on earth.  You know, the ol’ rod and a shelf kind, barely the depth of an actual hanger.

My fashion career started with a High School job at our local Benetton.  Ever since, I’ve either worked in stores, designed stores, or known (married) people who do.  What this means is twofold:  I am a wizard at organizing and displaying merchandise, and I have an immense wardrobe.  Employee discounts, warehouse sales, sample sales, friends and family coupon codes, have all allowed me the luxury of a collection of clothing and accessories that spurns Imelda Marcos jokes and Kim Kardashian frivolity comparisons alike.  I am also of a certain age where some of the things I’ve purchased are considered Vintage in their own right.  Despite many……disappointing? physical changes I’ve gone through over the years, I have remained essentially the same dress size for long enough to never warrant “growing out” of my clothes.

I have treasured pieces, sentimental pieces, practical pieces (ok, maybe not too many of those), and all manner of beautiful items — all of which I wear regularly, and all of which spark joy in my life.  Having redesigned the rooms of hundreds of Interior Decorating Clients, I can tell you that my clothing collection is far more practical than your figurines, more useful than your dusty books, and way prettier than your wine corks, your concert tickets, and your DVDs.  But here’s the kicker.  It’s all of those things to me.  

I love it when a client has a collection that they adore, yet don’t know how to honor.  It’s the most fun of all to watch them light up as I apply the elements of good design to the things they cherish.  My opinion of the item is hardly their (or anyone’s) concern.  We all have our passions in life.  Mine happens to be one I wear every single day.  So after 17 years of crammed rods and shelves, it was an honor to convert one of those extra bedrooms into my own personal  boutique.  Fitting Room.  Dressing Room.  Closet.  We’re still voting on the name…..and remember, don’t judge my wardrobe, I won’t judge your unopened cookbook collection.

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2 thoughts on “Job Hazards

  1. Pingback: Hocus Pocus | TRENDSlation: intelligent style

  2. Pingback: trending | TRENDSlation: intelligent style

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