Cue high-pitched fanboy screams and giggles.
Yes, it’s my 28 y/o male best friend. A fashion design student screaming at me through my mobile. He just received a great opportunity to work with Australia’s top mens tailor. I’m so very happy for him, I’m so very happy because I do not have to read another intro letter for a few weeks [it's not about me, but…it's about me.]
Seriously, my BF has earned his stripes [on that delightful haute couture bias-cut Ghagra]. He gives all he has, gives all it takes, and if he doesn’t have it, he makes sure he can take it and literally make it his own. BF personally visited most of the Sydney tailors, sent intro letters, sent follow up letters and just had faith that his tenacity would pay off. And I may be as bias-cut as that North Indian dress, but BF does have the talent so it was inevitable someone would hire him. But notice would have arrived much later if BF didn’t step outside his own spotlight comfort zone to politely tap the tailors on the shoulder and make them pay attention.
And it’s this pro-activeness and pitbull tenacity I try to instil in the children I visit on my book tours [yes, I know they're 7, I know they're 7, but they'll be a 7 year old non-proactive, non-walking pitbull lazy potato heads].
“But what if I don’t have any talent?” I hear you adults whinge as you weep gently into your pillow. Be proactive. Gain experience. These are good things. As is actually doing it. Especially in absence of talent. But especially in absence of motivation.
I understand. I, myself, used to be a vanity weeper [after I brushed my hair 100 times asking who was the fairest of them all. Yes, I wept. I wept bitterly. And without dignity.] My worst nightmare as a writer, and I am sure of others in the arts and media fields or any field in general, is to reach out to the laureates of your industry only to receive such replies:
“Your work is both creative and original, but unfortunately the creative aspects are not original and the original aspects are not creative.”
“It’s not you, it’s me.”
“I’m seeing someone else.”
“I like your sister better.”
But I digress.
My point is: step out of that sandbox and off that soapbox and get into the boxing ring. The only way you’re gonna win is if you are prepared to fight. But protect that pretty face. Some of you may have already lost that battle. I jest! I jest!
- “]
- Get out of your corner to get someone in your corner! [end of public service announcement
Congratulations my pitbull friend. You deserve it!
