What Goes Around, Comes Around

I have never considered myself a very "artsy" person, given that I can't draw (or even sketch) to save my life.

And visiting museums isn't very high on my list of things I'd like to do if I had a free afternoon. "Take a nap" ranks much higher, as a matter of fact.

The younger of my two brothers got all of the artsy genes and he's put his God given talent to good use. He teaches elementary and high school art. And the man can draw like nobody's business.

I had a hard time in college trying to figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up. I declared no less than six majors my first two years of college.

I started off being a psychology major but chucked that when I realized I was over-analyzing every movement and eye twitch of everyone I met. And then there was the looney/scary/insane psychology professor who taught Psych 101. Let's just say his fascination with lab rats went a little overboard and leave it at that.

My next choice for a major was Fashion Design. I considered my inability to draw only a small inconvenience, until I had to....you know....draw something for an assignment that would be displayed in front of the whole class.

The same time I was struggling through the basic design courses, there was a hot shot student who was unquestionably a standout in the field. I never knew his real name because everyone called him J. Crew. This guy was going to be somebody when he grew up.

Flash forward to now.

I work here:

The better part of my day is spent designing things for people.

Like this for a former Atlanta Braves player.

And yes, we all wanted to try on his glove. But we did not.

Or framing this sweet little invitation.

Several months ago a guy called from New York wanting a custom mirror.

Right away something was vaguely familiar about him. Something in his voice, his strong Midwestern drawl....something.

But I couldn't put my finger on it and never gave it much thought.

When his mirror was ready I called him about shipping. He said he'd be going back to Iowa for a family reunion and please hold off sending the mirror for a couple weeks!

Iowa! Bingo!

And then he gave me his shipping address. It was a Suite number at none other than the J Crew Headquarters.

So, I went out on a limb and asked if he'd gone to Iowa State. He had.

Did he used to be called J Crew? He had.

How ironic he ended up working at J Crew after all these years. He laughed. And agreed.

The other day I got a note from him saying how much he liked his mirror.

"I'll send you a little something to wear this summer," he said.

I think I'll open a new store:
Will Work for Dresses