The Obaminator!

It was recently noted in the press that Michelle Obama was not happy with TyGirlz and Ty Corporation for naming their latest dolls "Sweet Sasha" and "Marvelous Malia". The company stated the dolls' names (and likeness) were merely coincidental and that "they just liked the names". (yeah right) It is not known what will transpire from here. Ty Corporation may have to pull all of their Malia and Sasha dolls, or doll up some major coin to the Obama's for the use of the girls' names. Now, if Michelle disapproved of that, wait untill she gets a load of this!
Now we can all own a little Obama to carry in our pocket! Introducing The Obama Action Figure. No doubt, this man has truly made his mark on not only our country but the entire world. Is this not the first time in history that a US President had an action figure created after him? Lovingly crafted and brought to us by DiD (Dragon in Dream) Corporation based in Hong Kong, the Obama action figure comes with interchangeable hands in which to grip his samurai swords, gun, light saber, microphone or whatever else will fit into his grips. Heck, he even comes with a wooden stool (pair that up with a microphone and he's ready for center stage at The Laugh Factory!) The company also produces figures from Lord of The Rings, Action Man, Tiger Woods and Adolf Hitler (oddly enough, they do not advertise or sell the Hitler doll on their website).
For more information and to order your own personal Obama, go to DiD Online: http://onlinedid.com/products/obama_action_figure/

The Age of the Fashion Slump

Today I decided it was time to reward myself with some retail therapy. The mission: To buy only tops and dress shirts. I hadn’t purchased any real shirts for myself in a long time and my wardrobe was beginning to look very lopsided with$7 tees and $250 jeans. I realized that I neither had anything dressy or even dress casual for the upper portion of my body. But an even bigger realization occurred to me as I was cheerfully shopping the outlet mall, hoping to nab some amazing after Christmas deals. I realized I am in a fashion slump. This slump has put me in a quagmire of discovering what my age-appropriate clothing is and my desire to hang on to the frocks of my youth. I am stuck somewhere on the outskirts of Juniors and kicking and rebelling against the fringes of Missy. Could I be in the category of Women’s Contemporary now?? It reminded me of the Judy Garland song “In Between” where she sings mournfully of how she’s a circle in a square and doesn’t fit in anywhere.

My first stop was Abercrombie, where I have shopped for the last 10 years of my life. For so long, I loved the simple styles, bright colors and good fits that Abercrombie offered. It was always a brand that was a sure thing but today it all looked different. The funny thing was, the silhouettes and colors were all the same from 6 years ago. It had not changed at all, but I had. The once cute baby doll tops were now as desirable as wearing a moo-moo and the lace-trimmed tank tops were like a bad cliché. Disappointed, I left with only a pair of brown, straight-leg chinos and a yellow and white striped hoodie.

I thought that since my luck had not been so good at Abercrombie, maybe I’d try Gap. I walked ¼ of the way inside, took a few glances at the tops with the giant GAP logo on it and quickly made a u-turn back out into the mall. I’ll be damned if I’m going to advertise to the world that I’m wearing a Gap sweater! J. Crew caught my eye and I pleasantly embraced the casual comfort finds that could await me there. It was a mess of leftover size 14s and corduroy pants in every color of the rainbow. Again, I left disappointed with one black button down dress shirt and two basic tanks tops. I passed by Ann Taylor and looked through the window hoping something would catch my eye but quickly recoiled when I realized I had even considered Ann Taylor at all. Oh my god, I must be desperate! The 'G by Guess' store was much too clubby/Bebe/Baby Phat. I quickly figured out that I wouldn’t be able to make anything work for me in there. Plus, I hadn’t owned anything by Guess? since 1989. Even Saks 5th Ave. Outlet proved to be a dismal adventure. There was nothing but the same old regurgitated Ed Hardy tops that I had seen in Los Angeles three years prior. This is what the people here in Texas get after the rest of the country is done with a trend: sloppy seconds.


I wondered if I was just shopping in all the wrong places or if I was in a fashion rut. It’s true, I was very uninspired by the leftover pieces that never made the cut the first time around and barely made the cut at the outlet mall. So I took it easy on myself and realized that it wasn’t entirely my fault. Perhaps outlet mall shopping in Texas after Christmas just wasn’t a good idea.


That evening I went home and logged onto Abercrombie.com for validation that I was still age-appropriate for some of their pieces. Much to my content, I found a few classic styled sweaters and two blouses that were very nice. Although, the selection was much less than what I would have purchased just a few years ago. I was disappointed to see the $70 and $80 price tags on their blouses, too. There was no way I was going to spend $80 on a short sleeved cotton blouse from Abercrombie. Perhaps they have me all figured out. They know the Abercrombie girl grows up to be the Abercrombie woman. Or perhaps the natural process of weeding the women from the junior’s section is taking place. Either way, I don’t think I will be missing much. And in the meantime, I am searching for my next favorite brand in which to bestow my loyalties for the next decade.

A Mid-Career Crisis?

Sometimes in my moments of career discontentment coupled with a dash of regret, I often wonder what my life would have been like had I chose a different profession instead of Fashion Design? And then I wonder why did I choose to design? Many people decide at a very young age what they want to be when they grow up, however, I was one of those that was not wired that way. For me it wasn’t the dilemma of trying to figure out what I wanted to do, but which one do I choose? I remember being captivated by news anchors at age 5 and deciding that’s what I’d do, I would be a news reporter! As I got a little older, I realized it wasn’t about reporting so much as it was about writing. Having my book report or creative writing assignment read by the teacher in class was never a surprise and I generally sailed through my English classes effortlessly. By age 9 I began writing diligently in my brown, leather-bound diary that my mother gave me for Christmas. I remember it came with a lock and key to keep inquisitive eyes out of the sordid tales of my pre-pubescent life. I even began every entry with “Dear Diary..” as if she were a living, breathing friend that just sat under my pillow waiting earnestly for me to deliver the days’ juicy details. As I grew older and soaked up the pages with my adolescent adventures, my diaries then became ‘journals’ and grew larger in size to fill the many questions I had going on in my head. There were no fancy brass locks and keys anymore, although, there should have been. For some odd reason, the boyfriends I had in my early 20’s thought the holy grail of my thoughts and actions lie between the pages of my journals. So, after having my journal raped on more that three different occasions and it’s contents used against me, I vowed to never write anything again. My journal was supposed to be my friend and it just sat there lifeless, in its quiet betrayal. It was like driving a car that had been stolen by thugs and joy ridden. I didn’t even want it anymore. And so for nearly 10 years following those uncomfortable, intrusive actions by insecure boyfriends, I didn’t write anything. I shut off the valve that used to pour out some of the most beautiful thoughts and personal issues of my life. Intermittently, over the course of that decade, you could get one page out of me. But generally it was written out of a desperate need to be a friend to myself or I had had an epiphany that just needed to be documented.

By 2003, my life took a sharp turn towards fashion design. With ferocity, I was determined to succeed. I designed everything from dance wear, swimwear, children’s apparel, formal wear, sleepwear and finally, jeans. It wasn’t until 2006, when I discovered “blogging” that I reconnected with my love for writing. I started off small and cautiously, taking baby steps and testing the waters. After a few months, I learned that it was OK to express myself through my writing again. In fact, it was very liberating!
Of course, anything that was incredibly personal or private I left on the shelf in my mind.
I moved to Los Angeles at the tail end of 2006 and became so absorbed in writing that I found myself pecking away several times a day when a thought came to mind worth writing about. It was like I was making up for the lost time that I had been gone. I had so much to say, so may thoughts and questions. I was catching up with my old friend and I finally felt free to just open up the floodgates and be me.
So today and the last few months I question whether or not I will be designing for the rest of my life. I wonder, why do we feel forced into doing just one thing our whole lives? My dad says I’m learning contentment and changing the way I think since I am in my mid-20s, Ok, 30’s. Maybe it's a mid-life crisis. Though, I think of it more as a mid-career crisis.