It seems all I’m doing lately is patting clients on the back for all the great work they are doing. But, in between, there are dark, lonely days of chaos, when their stories, their campaigns, and their marketing seems to have no focus; no shape or meaning. I walk around with my head down, thinking, and thinking, rewriting and editing. I’m at my worst when multiple clients are in this stage at one time. I try very hard to avoid this — but sometimes, it’s inevitable. Finally, there is the day when the world starts to look different, and out of the slimy mass comes something coherent and real.
This is one of those days! Here’s Pat’s story:
As a little girl, I was forced to wear a Catholic school uniform that made my short waist look even shorter, and my petite legs stubby. I looked terrible. But what I didn’t know, was that I looked bad because of the clothes; not because of me.
I kicked and screamed until my mother agreed not to send me to the all-girls Catholic school in Cleveland. Suddenly, I was free to wear whatever I pleased. Back in the 70s, there wasn’t much for the girls to choose from. Gloria Vanderbilt didn’t even make jeans until the late ‘70s, so I wore boys’ brown corduroys or painter pants. It is a wonder I ever had a boyfriend. But, we all looked like that!
I may not have been fashionable, but I loved fashion. One day, I stumbled into an old family boutique in the Short North, which has been around since the ‘60s. There, the owner’s son, took me by the hand, fitted me in beautiful suits and dresses. He showed me how the right clothes could change one’s perception of one’s self and change the way they felt, and change the way they see the world.
Fast-forward to 2015 … when Fabtique opens .. continue reading.
Join us Thursday Night, October 13, for the Fabtique opening party at 4:30.