Foresight:



I've been thinking a lot about myself and fashion lately, and how it is that I see myself fitting into the world of fashion in my future. A career as a designer? This is what I want for myself, and this is what I am working towards with my plans to return to study next year in order to develop myself further. However lately I am starting to feel like maybe it's all just a really self indulgent dream, and that maybe it's time to wake up and to take a deep wiff of reality...

I guess this post in and of itself is pretty self indulgent. I'm sure Mags will tell me it is. I wonder if Twitter's @theblogcritic will tear me a new one over this? I'm not looking for sympathy and I'm not even feeling poorly - I'm just questioning whether I'm making the right moves. I think of my life thus far, and the life that I've got left to live, and certain things become apparent.

I do not wantto spend the rest of my life sitting at a computer in an office building, surrounded by people I have nothing in common with and wearing a corporate uniform that makes me feel like shit. I love my job because it is going to allow me the freedom to return to study in 2012 and to save enough money to actually do something with a Fashion Design Diploma; but if I we're planning on doing that I would need to seriously think about getting the hell out of the Public Sector.

Similarly, I know that the type of fashion design that I want to do is going to be difficult to make money from, and let's face it, I have become accustomed to a certain style of life. Sustainable fashion is greatly maligned, and not without reason: whenever I think of Sustainable Fashion I always get the same image in my mind. There's a rather eccentric woman in her 40s who has decided to pack in her corporate life and is trying to make a living for herself as a 'Green Designer' selling Dresses made of crocheted plastic bags and T-shirts with patches of recycled material stitched on from a market table. Occasionally someone will stop to look at what she's selling; but no one ever buys anything. And I am vain enough to admit that I don't want this to happen to me.

Finally there's cowardice. At the back of my mind there's a voice telling me I'm not good enough, I'm not celever enough, that people will think I'm a patchouli-drenched hippy trying to sell them crap made out of recycled garbage. I listen to that voice more than I should, and then I get down on myself and I start doubting my dreams and questioning my motives. I stop Blogging and I start watching whatever is on TV for five-hour stints. I eat until I make myself sick and I hate myself for doing so.

But, after all of this, when I'm lying in bed at night, I think about fashion and clothes and making something beautiful for someone to wear... And I know that even though I may very well hate myself for it later; I have to try.

Xx