My first real job was at Successories.
I was sixteen. The store sold motivational posters. Framed quotes. Little desk gifts for executives who needed a reminder on the office wall that they were capable of more. Every surface was covered in inspirational words and every wall pointed at a bigger life.
I loved every inch of it. Something in me knew those inspirational knick knacks were pointing at something true. Even the ones on the coffee mugs.
On my breaks I walked the mall and hunted. I was a '90s girl with fifteen minutes on the clock. First stop: the clearance rack at the back of The Gap, where a dress hung marked down 75%. Best find of the day? A $30 sweater that looked like it came out of Seventeen Magazine.
I thought I was killing time. I know now what I was really doing. I was training my eye. I was learning leverage on a mall paycheck.
What happens when you find a beautiful thing in an unexpected place? You wear it and walk taller than your paycheck.
The earliest version of your work knows more than you give it credit for.
So tell me. What was your first taste of having an eye? Tell me about the first find that made something click in you. Hit reply. I read every one.
PUT ON something today that sixteen-year-old you would have grabbed off the rack without a second thought. She was already good at this. Let her pick.
