things I seemed to desire these days. Normally I could control
my wayward thoughts and maybe if he was sporting another ridiculous ensemble
like the one he had on at the Ram Patel show I could do a better job of it. But
heaven forbid he actually helped me out over here. Today he was dressed in a
white t-shirt, faded denim jeans, and a soft heather-gray cardigan that was
just masculine enough. The scarf around his neck was loosely knotted and a
lovely shade of blue that matched his eyes perfectly.
GRRRRR. Snap
out of it, Millie. He is not on your team; my God, you all don’t even play the
same sport. Let it go, work, work, work, this is work. Everyone settle down,
this is a drill, I repeat, just a drill.
“So, would you like
to look at what I have?” For God’s sake, man, shut it down. How was a
girl supposed to concentrate when you were verbally crawling across the desk toward
her?
“Absolutely. I’ve
been thoroughly impressed with what I’ve seen so far; you certainly have a
solid vision and your own aesthetic, but first I would just like to start by
hearing about why you’re moving into New York fashion now. What’s driving this?
Are you going to continue showing in India and the US? Or will this be a
transition to a more Western market for your brand?”
“Hmmmm. That is
an excellent question.” He leaned back in the chair, seemingly at ease in the
ancient office chair. He crossed his legs and slowly began to swing one back
and forth. “My hope is to have solid, successful shows in the US. I want to
focus on ready-to-wear, mainly career clothing. Most of what I do back in India
is very fanciful, more formal occasion or ethnic dress. I think by keeping the
two lines separated by purpose, it will keep each portion of the brand
separate. India will be what it has always been, and the US side will be more
Western and marketable daywear.”
“All right, and
why now?” Everyone had hidden motives and objectives. To work with him as
closely as I would have to, I needed to know what that motivation was so I
could ensure that our company goals did not conflict with his. While we rarely
turned down work, we also had to choose designers who were a good fit for what
we were trying to cultivate.
He stared at me
from under hooded eyes as his hands fidgeted with the buttons on his cardigan.
“Millicent.”
“Please, everyone
calls me Millie. Well, everyone except Marta.”
He smiled at that
and seemed to relax a little bit. “Millie, I’ve reached a point in my private
life where my business life has to evolve into what it is going to be, and it
has to do it quickly. I know that sounds veiled and convoluted, but for your
side of it, just know I am extremely motivated to launch my brand in the US and
the resort wear collection will be a trial run for the fall collection in
February. I need to start off with an easy win, and resort wear is very similar
to what I have been designing in India. I will work tirelessly; I will give you
whatever you need to make this launch a success.”
Well, that told
me absolutely nothing. I could hear his passion, I could see his passion for
this move to New York, but I still felt as if there was something more riding
on this than his professional success. I knew I shouldn’t care or be concerned,
but on some level, I wanted to help him. Maybe it was the ridiculous fantasies,
maybe it was the way his eyes changed when he spoke about his passion, but I
knew I would do whatever I could to help this man become a success.
“All right then.
Sounds like we’re on the same page. I’ll tell you up front that you need to be
clear about what you are asking for from our company. Some designers are the
creative thinkers and we’re simply the hands that make it so. I know you were
at the Ram Patel show—that is an excellent example of us executing the
client’s wishes with no creative input from our side. Ram was very clear on his
vision for the
my wayward thoughts and maybe if he was sporting another ridiculous ensemble
like the one he had on at the Ram Patel show I could do a better job of it. But
heaven forbid he actually helped me out over here. Today he was dressed in a
white t-shirt, faded denim jeans, and a soft heather-gray cardigan that was
just masculine enough. The scarf around his neck was loosely knotted and a
lovely shade of blue that matched his eyes perfectly.
GRRRRR. Snap
out of it, Millie. He is not on your team; my God, you all don’t even play the
same sport. Let it go, work, work, work, this is work. Everyone settle down,
this is a drill, I repeat, just a drill.
“So, would you like
to look at what I have?” For God’s sake, man, shut it down. How was a
girl supposed to concentrate when you were verbally crawling across the desk toward
her?
“Absolutely. I’ve
been thoroughly impressed with what I’ve seen so far; you certainly have a
solid vision and your own aesthetic, but first I would just like to start by
hearing about why you’re moving into New York fashion now. What’s driving this?
Are you going to continue showing in India and the US? Or will this be a
transition to a more Western market for your brand?”
“Hmmmm. That is
an excellent question.” He leaned back in the chair, seemingly at ease in the
ancient office chair. He crossed his legs and slowly began to swing one back
and forth. “My hope is to have solid, successful shows in the US. I want to
focus on ready-to-wear, mainly career clothing. Most of what I do back in India
is very fanciful, more formal occasion or ethnic dress. I think by keeping the
two lines separated by purpose, it will keep each portion of the brand
separate. India will be what it has always been, and the US side will be more
Western and marketable daywear.”
“All right, and
why now?” Everyone had hidden motives and objectives. To work with him as
closely as I would have to, I needed to know what that motivation was so I
could ensure that our company goals did not conflict with his. While we rarely
turned down work, we also had to choose designers who were a good fit for what
we were trying to cultivate.
He stared at me
from under hooded eyes as his hands fidgeted with the buttons on his cardigan.
“Millicent.”
“Please, everyone
calls me Millie. Well, everyone except Marta.”
He smiled at that
and seemed to relax a little bit. “Millie, I’ve reached a point in my private
life where my business life has to evolve into what it is going to be, and it
has to do it quickly. I know that sounds veiled and convoluted, but for your
side of it, just know I am extremely motivated to launch my brand in the US and
the resort wear collection will be a trial run for the fall collection in
February. I need to start off with an easy win, and resort wear is very similar
to what I have been designing in India. I will work tirelessly; I will give you
whatever you need to make this launch a success.”
Well, that told
me absolutely nothing. I could hear his passion, I could see his passion for
this move to New York, but I still felt as if there was something more riding
on this than his professional success. I knew I shouldn’t care or be concerned,
but on some level, I wanted to help him. Maybe it was the ridiculous fantasies,
maybe it was the way his eyes changed when he spoke about his passion, but I
knew I would do whatever I could to help this man become a success.
“All right then.
Sounds like we’re on the same page. I’ll tell you up front that you need to be
clear about what you are asking for from our company. Some designers are the
creative thinkers and we’re simply the hands that make it so. I know you were
at the Ram Patel show—that is an excellent example of us executing the
client’s wishes with no creative input from our side. Ram was very clear on his
vision for the
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