Why I’m Hosting a Party for Myself
Not one to bury the lead, on the evening of June 13, I’m hosting a party for myself for my consulting business. A 10-year anniversary of anything is a milestone and I’m keen to indulge. Will you join me as I host y’all? I have drinks and nibbles for all ticket holders.
Am I so vain? Maybe. Am I okay with that? Absolutely. In western, white dominated culture we celebrate weddings, makeups, and breakups with confetti and bubbly drinks. We shower parents to be and upcoming marriages with gifts and love and attention. We fete babies before they are born and we dress in black for those we mourn. That’s all well and positive as I’m happy to celebrate people throughout their life.
That said, what about career milestones? Aside from a dream of earning retirement one day far, far away (ha! In this economy?) and graduating high school, there really hasn’t been a, “you go Glen Cocoa,” for any other career milestones of mine. I didn’t realize how much of a missed opportunity that was until recently.
These keep-your-head down-and-be-reserved vibes stop now. Riding high on my Enneagram 8 allocation and Aries rising energy, I can host the damn thing myself. No problem. Gird your loins fashion friends, it’s my party and I’ll cry (tears of joy) if I want to.
I want to celebrate the big thing: 10 years in business. Bah zinga!
I want to celebrate the thousands of little things. Warning, I’m about to gush. These celebrations and glimmers of gratitude include…
Being courageous and leaving my lucrative, promising career in brand communications for an uncertain future all those years ago.
Doing the sometimes devasting, hard work to explore what can fulfill my beloved interests.
Trusting myself.
Trusting my partner when he said, “We can figure this out. Do you.”
The countless folks who let me treat them to coffee to help carve my meandering way step by step forward, back a couple, and trudging forward yet again.
Designers, producers, superiors, and colleagues who continue to both humble and champion my contributions.
Folks earlier in their journey reminding me of the joy and thirst behind our shared motivations.
Retail workers.
Food service workers.
Essential workers.
Discovering how to harness my intrinsic abilities with desired abilities I have yet to develop.
Leaving behind what I could no longer carry.
Thousands of days working on film with the best and brightest teammates.
Coffee.
Medical and support workers that endeavour to keep sets safe so we can keep rolling.
My unquenchable desired to stay teachable for those who actually see me. (And for finding the integrity to filter out the ones that don’t).
Loved ones that help lug garment bags, blow up balloons, cash shoppers out, and fetch catering for countless events.
Strangers that DM me and share gut-wrenching personal stories. I see you.
Strangers on the street wearing clothes authentically and living their lives.
Third spaces like art galleries, malls, food courts, libraries, thrift stores, parks, parking lots, and cafes that are there to welcome folks that need to get out for a bit.
Everyday folks inviting me into their lives and trusting me with their wardrobes. That personal vulnerability is not lost on me.
Spaces and faces that welcome me.
Bookkeepers, insurers, lawyers, and accountants that keep me on the up and up.
The people who said no.
The people who said yes.
Grit.
Both my inherent and established privilege leveraged to do what I love with people I admire.
And you, fashion friends. I’m so thankful for you.
I saw something recently that I’d like to share as perhaps a slice on insight into what I do. As a creative, we are kind of like icebergs. The tip above the surface is the final product or what we share publicly in our portfolios or social media feeds. What you may not see is the huge, icy mass below the surface that is the countless working hours of being “bad” so you can eventually develop something “good.” I think prowess and skill is created over time. It’s not just there, born. Yes talent is a great baseline, but it doesn’t mean shit on its own. One must work, work, fail, get up, dust off, and work, work, work some more. Just keep going.
While I can pinpoint the start in my journey, I’m not sure I’ll ever know if I’m done. I have so much more to learn and do. And how fabulous is that? With an attitude of gratitude, I’d like to celebrate all the little wins along the way. Hence, my party y’all.
Fashion is a buffet. We all like different things. I applaud y’all for doing whatever it is you do. I hope it fills you up so you can let it spill positivity out and bring others up with you. Come to my party so you can tell me all about it? Please join me.
Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
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