BUSINESS HOURS

To the amusement of my sweetheart, I have never enjoyed a meal, drink or checked in for a flight without wondering how I could start working for the bar/restaurant/airline/popsicle stand that was responsible for it. As a result of having worked for so many small business owners, I am perpetually evaluating the points of service, interior design and general workflow that make a place function. I love watching businesses work! I am shocked by the ways people run their businesses and even more so by the number of people who assume they will be good at running one. Revisiting the notebooks and diaries I have kept since high school, a veritable business plan library awaits ranging from coffee shops to greenhouse-cum-pottery-studio-cum-interior-design-outfit to summer lifestyle brand to my catchall favorite entitled Bev's which sells just about anything as long as it comes in a glass. Strangely (annoyingly?), I have nary put these observations and schemings to the test, frozen by the possibility of becoming another cautionary tale of entrepreneurship failed.

In some ways, this website is about scaring up the courage in myself to try again to put my name on something and show it to the world. I know there is a challenge lurking under the surface, a yearning to add my creative log to the fire. There is a sense of accomplishment and a lowering the bar of entry each time I write. My Make Something Now itch is scratching. I'm talking with some skilled ladies about style shoots and making regular trips to the garment district again (my simultaneously least and most favorite sector of New York). It is slow and scary when it comes to pushing your own envelope, and the more expertise you have in a field, the more clearly you recognize potential faults.

Last year, along with a couple of committed friends, I worked my way through the cult creative book The Artist's Way, charmingly dated eight-week guide to building confidence as an artist and creative soul. Through the weeks of exercises and journaling, my greatest artistic weakness proved itself to be simply not giving myself the tools and time necessary to believe myself good. Do I need to buy a few extra yards of spandex in order to feel inspired some days? Yes. Do I need nine colors of Sculpey to mold out some dreams one night? Yes! Do I need to make a swimsuit for myself without wondering 85 steps down the path how I will ever make it a profitable model? God, yes, Kimberly. (You know you are still working that one out.) This last week, I was laid up with a cold that knocked me flat on my ass. As someone who can count the number of sick days I've taken in my life on one hand, I was surprised to be bed-bound for more than an afternoon. What killed me about these days was that I didn't even feel good enough to use them for making, despite being able to see my stack of projects just beyond the horizon of cough syrups and Cheerios. But the yearning for open-ended hours of creation didn't fade with the fever. I know by now that the desire for something new is best invested in my own ideas, not searching for another job, an unpaid internship or an entry-level position in a broken retail industry. The internship is over. The internship was my 20s, and I worked through that decade with eyes open, picking up more than I would from assigning myself to any startup or label that's looking to pick up some free labor.

So I promise, with the return of my health, there will be some goodies coming by way of this website in the next couple of months. Goodies I am finding and fixing and will most likely make a good accompaniment to the beach. I can't wait to share.