I’ve always longed to cartwheel. As a kid I’d look on with envy as my acrobatic sister threw her legs high into the air with carefree abandon. Sure, when no-one was watching I’d attempt to re-enact her graceful display, without ever having much luck. Headstands I could and can still manage, even without a wall or tree prop-up. Although let’s face it kids, there aint anything cool or impressive about a boring old headstand. In retrospect, minus the junior gymnastic turmoil (I gave up my cartwheeling ambition along with finger clicking, unicycling and turning my eyelids inside out – red-head kid, you know who you are), it was entirely a confidence thing. Weighing up the potential consequences, my young mind and limbs decided this cartwheeling business was a risk too far. Even with a crash mat and helmet — yes, helmet — I could never quite summon the bravery to master the art.
Risk taking is now part and parcel of everyday life – cutting the very first garment for a new collection in precious silk or cashmere, or that split second decision when the light turns to amber – accelerate/brake, accelerate/brake…ofcourse I brake every time, just as you do. Naturally… Risks are part of human life and to be honest, although I beat myself up with indecision from time to time, I really do love the thrill of the “what if”.
Spontaneity has become one of my most favourite words. Not only does it sound pretty lovely and a little clickety, it brings back memories of some of the very best times when decisions, actions and well…. parties took place on the spur of the moment. Sometimes scary, sometimes silly but always adrenaline racingly exciting.
My latest spontaneous foray took place this very weekend as a result of the incredibly surprising and fantastically kind offer of complimentary tickets for a music festival up North. Not only comp, but VIP comp. Yip, too spectacular an offer to refuse. Knee-deep in Spring/Summer Collection mania, with piles of never ending paperwork; pattern cutting; a wedding dress design to discuss; a shoot to coordinate and all the generally time-consuming tasks which come with running a studio and business, my head told me to stay put and knuckle down. My heart on the other hand, like that familiar wee devil on my shoulder, screamed wildly at me to rally the girls and hit the road. So yes, that’s exactly what I did.
As well as developing a my newfound passion for spontaneity I have, after three incredible roller-coaster years in business, learned the importance of taking time out to reflect, re-charge and indulge in some sensational fun. All work and no play and all that. The day I’m considered dull, or have any remote inclination to purchase a caravan or motor-home, is the day I consider whisker implants, turn vegetarian (my farmer father would disown me) or throw on Juicy Couture velour. Of equal importance is the care, nurture, time and effort which one must devote to each and every precious relationship. Friends and family – old, new, borrowed and (clichés aside) blue don’t come for free and deserve to know how much they matter. And so, to those who were present this weekend, those who made it happen and those who were sadly absent – you guys rock!
We had thee most enlivening, extraordinary weekend. The sun did indeed shine, no major hiccups occurred – albeit near disaster when, ten miles into our journey, it dawned that my festival outfit was still hanging in the studio – and most importantly, the spectacular company was second to none.
I’d suggest everyone indulges in a little risk taking spontaneity once in a while. Unquestionably, this is going to be a productive week, an exciting week and a week graced with some very late nights in the studio…
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