Spring and New Things
Remember when I was complaining about the crazy Texas snow storm? Spring arrived this week, and I have forgotten all about the freeze. I managed to finish one more fur felt hat using my new-to-me, vintage puzzle block I ordered from Russia (while temps were still on the cool side). I wouldn’t say it was the easiest thing to block given the beautiful petal shape crown. After going back and forth about the trim, I just decided to let it go naked. I love that aubergine color, the fluffy fur, and the subtle brim of the cap. It’s truly cute as a button (cap). I might block it with straw for the Summer, or I might not—we’ll see how I feel and what my workload looks like.
With a new season, and a year of Covid under my belt, I have started to think about changing my life rather than reflecting on how my life has changed. Waiting for things to get back to normal will probably be a waste of my time. How am I going to live out the rest of my life given all the uncertainties?
When I first decided to study millinery, I was at a very unstable place in my life. I reflected back to better days, a place where I felt safe and creative. I was young, in my mid twenties, and studying fashion design in California. I had abundant energy, and I could do almost nothing wrong. Do you remember a time in your past where you were so exhilarated with life that anything was possible? Sometimes we find our future in our past.
Millinery design began with a memory and promise to myself that one day I would master hat making. I still remember standing in front of the accessories director at my school, and promising to be back—someday. But I never went back. Instead, I went to the next best place to learn millinery: England. The rest my friends, is history.
Let’s get back to that unstable time in my life where making the decision to learn millinery saved me. I had abruptly retired from my other much-loved profession and moved to another country. It all seemed like a good idea at first, but what it did was leave a giant gaping hole in my heart. As each day passed, that hole started eating into the very core of me. Despair was not far away.
Creating saved me from myself.
Making beautiful things and putting them back out into the world turned my dark countenance into a new, lighter one. Who would have thought that making a little hat could still get me through tough times, even through Covid 19. I think I did some of my most creative work last year. I tapped into my childhood, and my culture with my Wo Ai Ni Collection, and now that the door is open, I can finally throw away that key.
The world doesn’t really have a calendar anymore. Everything seems to revolve around the pandemic now. I no longer feel compelled to keep up with the seasons. These days, I am just lucky if we can get out, walk around, or go for a short drive somewhere, anywhere. People aren’t really thinking about wearing hats, let’s say it’s not the first thing on our heads, uh hum, minds.
I plan on phasing out of my Etsy store and taking a long break to concentrate on anything that pops into my creative space. I want to make some pretty garden hats, and that’s mostly because I spend a lot of time there. I would love to take photographs of people in their gardens wearing my hats. I also want to make hats for people—people I know, and people I will know. Because those lovely humans will call me up and say, “Hey Mamie, I need a hat for something special, and can you design one just for me?” And I will be elated to learn about her and create something unique that fits not only her ensemble, but her personality.
So if you don’t see me all over social media (because it sucks up my creative time), don’t worry. I’m still making things over here in Austin. Come back to this space often—more change is about to take place.