Baby Got Back (Pain)!

On Monday morning as I made my best attempt at being Suzy Homemaker with my Hoover vacuum cleaner, I bust a move that my back was not happy with. And as a result, my body was racked with pain. I couldn't even make it into the plantation this week. GASP! That's how bad it was. But I couldn't let it stop my game or alter my journey. So I did what any struggling designer and business owner would do, I presided over my empire (LOL!) from behind my computer screen. I'm not sure how we ever survived without the Internet, but I would have been dead in the water if it had not been for my Internet explorer.

On Monday, my good friends who are public relations professionals and I finished up a proposal we started working on last week requesting sponsorship dollars for my company's big debut to the plus size industry during New York Fashion Week in September. I've envisioned it more as an event than a runway extravaganza. The theme is The Super Woman and I am doing my part to empower and excite and clothe the curvy fashionista through my dresses. It's going to be a blast!

On Tuesday, I emailed the proposal to the company that we are interested in working with. Afterwards, I let my finger strokes do the walking as I posted an ad on craigslist for full figured fit models for this endeavor. I asked for measurement stats and photographs and added my height requirements. Some women just sent a photo and a phone number. One woman responded who was not even plus sized. I just don't know how to make it any clearer. But I got a lot of great responses. And Victoria, my seamstress, and I are holding a casting this evening to meet all the lovelies. Wish me luck!

On Wednesday, I tried to rest as much as possible during the day because I knew that I was surprising my honey for his birthday with tickets to see Diana Ross at Radio City Music Hall that night. After spending over $200 on those tickets, come hell or high water we were going even if I had to be carried in. Luckily, it did not come to that and I was able to work it out despite my back pain. This being my first Diana Ross concert, I had high hopes. And Ms. Ross did not disappoint. It was 1 hour and 40 minutes of delight with her singing some of my favorites.

While I am feeling a lot better, I must admit that it is difficult trying to be Mr. Fashion when you are walking around at half mast grimacing with pain. But like I always say, "You've gotta fake it, until you make it!" No truer words were ever spoken. Now please excuse me while I struggle to stand up straight and make it into Manhattan for some business I've got to handle.

Peace & Fashion!

The Juggling Act

Last night I had a meeting with the pastor of my church. No, I was not having a spiritual crisis. Several months ago, I had been asked by one of the members, who is affectionately referred to as Mama Brown, to assist her with a fashion show for the church. In the black community, church fashion shows are a common way to raise money for the ministry. And they are usually, how can I put this delicately, very CHEESY. In fact, when I became a member of Mount Moriah almost 3 years ago, I declared to my mother that under no uncertain terms would I ever be involved with a fashion show at the church. What if it had been discovered by the fashion elite that I was entangled in a church fashion show? This kind of felony would appear on my record for the rest of my life! Yet, last night there I was face-to-face with my pastor, Mama Brown, and one of the other members of the clergy to nail down details for our November 21 fashion extravaganza. I just find it funny how the universe will set you on a path that you've already decided is not right for you. And you've just got to surrender and learn the lesson that comes with it. But now I am wondering how I am going to find the energy and time and emotional fortitude to take on another project.

Ashanti, Serosh, and I (The 3 Musketeers of Fashion) have been brainstorming on how we are going to move into the next phase of our plan with hiring an independent sales rep and finding a space to have appointments with buyers. Ashanti suggested our old reliable, craigslist, as a possible resource for locating a sales rep. Since nothing beats a failure but a try, we went for it. And I still find it amazing how some people will apply for a job without dotting their Is or crossing their Ts. Our posting reads:

Looking for independent fashion sales representative to sell a line of cocktail dresses. This position is commission only. Must have strong relationships with specialty stores. If you're interested, please contact Wilbur at 917.520.4615

This was one of the responses that was emailed to us:

Have 25 years in evenwear dresses, us too own( after dark). if you are looking for a pro please feel free to cll me.Will not work commission Only.

That's just all wrong! So we keep pressing forward. Serosh has reached out to some of his associates who have been in sales and I've tried reaching out to mine. And we even got a bite from someone who sounds interesting. But we have not met with any candidates just yet. But time marches on and we need to have someone in place for market week next month when all the buyers descend on New York to look at what's new and has value for their stores. So as I field responses to our posting and begin work on my first stab at the world of church fashion shows and strive to remain positive about the possibilities of this inaugural collection, I realize that in this juggling act I've got to keep all my plates in the air. I cannot let one drop and shatter to pieces.

Peace & Fashion!

WANTED: A Model Citizen

I thought I'd have photos to share of the fruitful and wonderful casting I was conducting today. I thought you would be able to see the other model who, along with Valencia, will be posing and cavorting in front of the camera on June 20. Not. This time craigslist let me down. None of the candidates worked. They were either not camera ready or did not match Valencia's measurements. And since all the pieces were made to fit Valencia's body, that's just not going to work. But there was one glimmer of hope. Her photos were playful, yet sophisticated. Sexy, yet appropriate. She is lovely to look at possessing a beauty that is accessible. And best yet, her measurements matched Valencia's. I knew, looking at her images online, that I'd found my other goddess. So this morning I packed up all the denim pieces and shoes and jewelry and trudged into Manhattan. That bag was heavy. By mid morning I received word from my sister that our goddess was filming a movie starring Alec Baldwin and Meryl Streep. She was not available, but wished us luck. That stinks. But the show must go on, so we have rescheduled the casting for this Monday. These photos have got to be magical and my dresses have got to POP. And we're hoping that we find that model citizen who has all the snap and crackle to do just that.

Peace & Fashion!

Fashion Trials

It has been 11 days since I posted something new. And I hope that there are people out there still interested in traveling with me as I navigate the road to fashion superstardom.

This was a trying week that ended in triumph. No, I did not win Lotto. But I did start Monday in panic mode when I had to dismiss yet another tailor. When they say that good help is hard to find, they aren't kidding. My tailor, apparently, entered into a subcontract with a woman who was to sew my pieces. And initially, everything was fine. She created the muslin (a version of the dress in a cotton fabric that is used for fitting purposes before rendering it in the actual material) for two of the looks and we had a first fitting with my model, Valencia. But then two weeks passed without further progress. In fact, she was supposed to be on site to have more fittings and discuss any issues about the design details, but she never showed up. So when I met with my tailor and the seamstress at 1 p.m. this Monday past, I was not a happy camper. Long story short, after a nasty confrontation, I left panic-stricken with all my fabric, my $300 deposit, and nothing to show for that month of work. I scrambled to a nearby internet cafe struggling to carry the bolts of fabric so I could log onto my email. I had the forethought to place an ad on craigslist for a freelance tailor/seamstress when things started going downhill with my longtime dressmaker. Having already received responses from the posting, it was imperative to parcel the work out immediately. After all, I am on a deadline. What ensued that Monday afternoon was sheer craziness. I was shuttled by NYC taxis and subways from 57th street and 8th avenue down to 11th street and 2nd avenue back up to 37th street and 8th avenue and back down to 11th street and 2nd avenue and onto the theatre at 59th street between Park & Madison avenues in time for a 6 o'clock dramatic reading. Wheww! You know it's hard out here for a pimp! On Wednesday afternoon, I met with Evan, who hails from Louisville, KY, at the Starbucks at Atlantic Avenue mall in downtown Brooklyn. He will be completing the last look for me. He is the fourth and final clothier in my menagerie of freelance seamstresses and tailors. At least, that is what I hope.

On Thursday afternoon during a 4 hour period, Valencia and I raced from 37th street and 8th avenue to 11th and 2nd avenue and then up to 135th street off Lenox Avenue in Harlem. Each stop consisted of a quick strip down of her clothes and a slip on of my pieces where she was pinned, marked, and ordered to sashay in sky-high platform sandals. And I am pleased so far with the workmanship and the look of each piece and each muslin. I know this collection is going to knock 'em dead. I am triumphant.

Peace & Fashion!

If The Shoe Fits. . .

I have not designed a collection of tailored clothes for a minute now, but it is almost like riding a bike. I really enjoy the creative process and mapping out the details of each look. But I become anxious sometimes when I think about the cost of putting a collection together. How will I be able to afford this latest endeavor? But I just push on through because I know I am just following my destiny. My friend Sheila Rule says that I am "walking my prayer". Buying the fabrics and trims and then taking it all to the seamstress who will bring my illustrations to life is probably the first step after sketching. But I must also employ a fit model. This will allow us to refine the pattern of each piece so that we know my dresses are actually wearable on a live person. The task of finding someone who fits the bill wears me out. Of course, I could go to an agency, but I am trying to keep my costs down. So I let my fingers do the walking to craigslist.com - the new yellow pages - where I place an ad for a fit model. This Friday past my posting went up live and read like this:

Immediate hire for a fit model for the launch of a new line of cocktail dresses. Please be professional and punctual. You must have the following measurements - Bust - 34", Waist - 26", Hips - 37". Please be 5'9" or taller.

I got several responses from a gaggle of models and model wannabes. All of the women were lovely, but some didn't quite have the measurement requirements and others didn't quite have the height. But I was able to set up 5 appointments for the following Saturday afternoon at my local Starbucks. At 2:30 p.m. a call comes in from one of the candidates, "Hi Wilbur. I am here." To which I replied, "So am I. Please come on upstairs." Up the stairs comes the very statuesque goddess Valencia. She hails from Virginia and oozes Southern charm and grace. We talk like old friends. I am almost certain that the job is hers. But I must see all the ladies first. Fair is fair. Although I have scheduled each candidate 30 minutes apart, no one else has shown up. My watch is fast approaching 4:00 and I am about to hit it when another candidate calls. "Wilbur, I am only a few blocks away. Please wait for me." I am fine with that. The lovely and buxom Daniela and I are talking less than 10 minutes later. She, too, is very personable, but I think her bust measurement may be a little too large. We end our meet and greet and I tell her that even if she is not chosen to work with me on this project, there are certain to be other projects in the future. I am convinced that I have found my Cinderella. And her name is Valencia. After all, she is wearing the shoe so it must fit.

Peace & Fashion!

Let Your Fingers Do The Walking

When I was a kid I remember watching the commercial for the yellow pages that advised viewers to "Let your fingers do the walking." It was a television moment that has stayed with me throughout my career. Looking to establish my own company was unchartered territory. After all, I'd never even worked for anyone in the fashion industry. So it was a moment of reinvention (Hello Madonna!). Dutifully, I began to make a list of things I needed and let my fingers do the walking. I found clothing label manufacturers, shoe companies, sample makers, fabric stores, etc. The Yellow Pages held a treasure trove of potential contacts. But when I started searching for a financial backer to assist me with taking the company to the next level, there was no listing for Angel With Lots of Money. Up until that moment, it had been my go-to guide for problemsolving. One day about 5 years ago, I was commiserating with my diva friend Josette when she suggested a new kind of yellow pages. "Divo," she said, "why don't you put an ad on craigslist? It certainly can't hurt." Nothing beats a failure but a try, so I wrote my ad and posted it on craigslist the next day. The response was not overwhelming, to say the least, but I did manage to get three bites. One person sent an anonymous message which strongly suggested that I go back to school, take some business classes, and get my head out of the clouds because I obviously had no clue. Ouch! I actually met with the next prospect and he suggested that I just copy designs that were already in the marketplace and sell them. Clearly, he did not share my passion to bring something innovative into the retail landscape. Buh-bye! I was a little worn out when I met with the next dude. He was fresh faced and a little young. He was from Pakistan and had no money. But he had a connection to someone with lots of money who was also interested in building a fashion brand here in the U.S. Serosh (that's his name) and I shared a similar vision for our futures. Jackpot! So even when this financial backer backed out, Serosh and I have continued to try and rub two pennies together to see if we can make Sorta Kinda Enterprises a bonafide success story. But we have to remember to let our fingers do the walking.

Peace & Fashion!