It’s hard to let go.
After toying with the idea of closing my boutique for some time now, I finally did it. Being unable to spend enough time at the workshop began to take a toll. Business needs sticktoitivity and street smarts. My decision to work around the kid’s schedules didn’t help and neither did the fact that I am too trusting by far. Time to call it a day.
We (i.e. my tailors and I) have however figured a way to continue making Fatcat quilts without needing a dedicated space for the same.
And so thankfully, at least part of the original business continues to survive.
It will break my heart to let my workshop go though. It is a darling little place and thanks to some large open land facing it, cool breeze, birdsong and huge, shady trees have been my neighbours over the last five years. All of which is still mine for the coming month. And then no more.
Any regrets I ask myself wistfully? The answer is a loud No.
I have learnt so much from this stint – why habudai silk is used by every designer worth his salt, what a princess cut is and how not to manage a team.
In addition, many of my customers have become friends, and thanks to facebook I hope to remain part of their lives.
‘What will you do now mama?’ my son and daughter anxiously ask. Ever since they can remember, I have been off to the unit, albeit intermittently, and they seem worried about my lack of a career.
‘Write’ I answer, and for proof show my son an article that I wrote for ‘Parenting’ – a magazine dealing with, what else, but parenting. They run off to play, seemingly happy to hear that mama will be, if not out of the house, at least busy and off their case every once in a while.
A new year, a new beginning and new opportunities to fall, pick one’s self up and carry on.
So help me God.