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Help Wanted & More
 First
off, my apologies for being a week late getting the newsletter
out. It's all my fault. Things have been so hectic around here
that something had to give, and unfortunately it was this. I
was in Asia – Manila and briefly in Hong Kong – for most of April and am heading back to the Philippines May 17th. I was over there working on handbag designs and having a great time doing it. Now I have to return and supervise turning the samples into product. It’s
amazing how much you have to learn in order to do this sort of
thing. Freight forwarding, tariffs, volume and minimums become
part of your daily vocabulary.
As the newsletter says, we will be looking to hire an assistant this summer and we’d love to hear any and all recommendations and referrals from you. Just send us an email! Some things to keep in mind:
1. Half the Sky is a home-based business and there are 2 dogs at home. Therefore our assistant will want to be allergy-free.
2. We’re a small but rapidly expanding business – which means our assistant will be involved in all aspects of the business. This means fun stuff like trade shows and web marketing, as well as not so fun stuff like packing boxes, putting stamps on postcards and running errands. A working knowledge of the internet is required and knowing one’s way around various Microsoft programs like Word, Excel and Outlook are a definite plus.
3. Most importantly, we operate out of Sherman Oaks, California, which is in the San Fernando Valley, north of Los Angeles. I mention this in case you were thinking of recommending someone who lives in Iowa. I’m sure they’re wonderful, but the commute would really suck.
We’ll be hiring sometime in mid- to late June. I figure it’s better to put the word out there sooner rather than later.
As for our handbags - why are we heading overseas? Believe me, I would LOVE to have them manufactured here but there’s no way any of us could afford to buy them. Since Christine’s originally from the Philippines and still has family over there, we figured that was the best place to go. Her aunt-in-law Gie was invaluable to me as she took me from one manufacturer to another. (Definition of aunt-in-law: Christine’s blood relative Uncle Ray is married to Aunt Vicki, who is Gie’s sister. Got it?)
I’ll have much more to say in June after I get back and we have everything in the pipeline. We’ll be part of the California Gift Shows in July, so that’s why it’s wildly busy around here. But it’s a good kind of busy because it’s
exciting, challenging and invigorating.
New Doings, Plan B’s & Kicking Depression’s Butt: Getting the Good to Grow From the Bad
April 17, 2004 marked the first time I ever set out any of my handmade jewelry for sale at the Brand Boulevard Arts Festival in Glendale, California. I sold next to nothing. It was the last stormy day of the year and (I now realize) my display was ridiculous. I could have packed away Half the Sky for good as I was packing up at the end of the day. Chalk up my doggedness to never giving up. This has lead to a lot of late nights, but I’m proud of the fact that I’m not a quitter, that someone once said about me, “Marty’s a woman who finishes.” Now if I could just find a relationship I didn’t feel the need to “finish.”
That arts festival or, rather, its aftermath, was another lesson in looking for the good that takes root from the bad because the woman selling jewelry in the booth next to me was Christine Calla. It was her first arts festival too and I’m afraid Christine – as well as several members of her wonderful family - ended up helping me out quite a bit that day. The day itself wasn’t exactly stellar but the friendship that formed from it more than made up for it.
So here we are, 3 years later. In thirty-six months we’ve gone from a few beaded necklaces spread out on a table in the wind and rain to our upcoming book, the TV and magazine appearances, healthy sales figures and – drum roll please – a major new expansion for Half the Sky. I’m heading to the Philippines, Christine’s birthplace, to design our new handbag line. Yes, a handbag line to go with our jewelry line, which will be undergoing its own redesign.
Why this foray into new territory? Last fall, Christine had suggested going to Manila to have our jewelry and possibly handbags produced. In order to produce the volume we need to expand Half the Sky the way we want to, we have to look overseas. I wanted to avoid China and loved the idea of working with Christine’s contacts in Manila but, frankly, figured it was something we’d have to put off until 2008 because I knew nothing about the import business and still found all the budgeting and projections intimidating.
But, once again, from difficulty grew opportunity…
…which means I now have to ‘fess up: I’ve been keeping a secret from you since January. That was when we first began acquisition talks with a very small handbag and accessories company on the East Coast. I didn’t want to bring it up until some conclusion had been reached. Well, after 2 months of investigation and negotiation, the deal fell through. Friends thought I’d be devastated, felt badly that I’d “wasted” my time on a failed venture.
In those 8 weeks, however, I felt like I’d been through at least a year of business school. I had to break down the other company’s accounting for the last 5 years, make my own projections and research the importing business. It had been anything but a waste of time.
Even I was surprised at how quickly I bounced back. I’m certain it’s because I knew we had a Plan B at the ready. I was able to carry the momentum from that one situation directly into our own Plan B venture – starting up our own line instead of acquiring someone else’s.
I found out the hard way to have Plan B’s at the ready. Chronic depression runs in my family. My mother was raised for a time by her own grandmother because her own mother had to be hospitalized after a devastating case of post-partum depression. One of my sisters and a first cousin both spent time in hospitals as well. I too tangled with horrible depressions throughout my life, times when I was caught in an emotional riptide, a tempest within that would arise without warning.
Ten years ago, I realized I had to take full responsibility for my own well-being or live in a world devoid of any shred of stability. Instead of expecting others to pick me up and carry me through my life, I chose to learn how to manage this illness, just like a diabetic learns how to cope with theirs. I had to lean over a dark and profound abyss and stare into it for a very long time. I had to study and understand why I reacted so emotionally to certain things, and accept that it was up to me to come to terms with all that came before so that my future would be shaped by my work and determination rather than haunted by past hurt. I’d go weeks without sleeping through the night. I spent countless nights Mulholland Drive, driving through the Hollywood Hills at 2am to soothe myself. I’d get the runs, become nauseous, break out in sweats.
Severe depression is different from diabetes, however, in that you can’t just give yourself a shot – or a pill – to rebalance yourself. It’s both the body and the mind one has to deal with, and therapy is absolutely required. While medication helps, it is merely an aid, not a cure. Being caught up in a severely depressive episode is like being caught in a storm-tossed sea at night, 2 miles from shore. You can see the lights on shore and struggle to swim for them. But every so often, this horrible riptide reaches up through the dark water beneath you and sucks you under. You can’t breathe and your frantic efforts are to no avail. Eventually, hopefully, it spits you out. Exhausted and spent, you continue to struggle through the wind and waves toward shore – until the next riptide snares you.
Medication can take away that riptide effect. It’s still storming out, the waves continue to hit you full in the face, and shore’s still a hell of a long way off. But those unexpected and hideous hands no longer reach up to drag you under, no longer smother you unexpectedly. That’s the good news about medication. The bad news is there’s still plenty of work to be done. Now how fulfilling your life will be depends on how much you’re willing to look into yourself choose different behaviors – like having a Plan B at the ready ahead of time so as not to come to a crashing halt.
Throughout the acquisition negotiations in January and February, my father said repeatedly, “If this acquisition doesn’t happen, I don’t want you to be upset.” He told me this several times and pointedly so. I wondered why he kept saying this, and then it hit me: he feared I’d fall into another depression, even though I hadn’t had a major bout since the mid-90’s. I was touched beyond expression because Dad had once been so suspicious of therapy and it took him a long time to understand what was going on with me. He now understands why I consider overcoming depression one of the greatest accomplishments of my life.
Those who don’t know this part of my history are surprised because I’m a very energetic and enthusiastic person. My joie de vivre is extremely hard won and springs directly from having tussled with the darkest, most frightening part of myself and lived to tell the story. That, and from having done human rights work in Chiapas, Mexico in the aftermath of the Zapatista Rebellion. But that’s for another blog.
It’s 2:15am and I need to get some sleep – but not before I finish this! Seeing as misfortune is the fertilizer of good fortune, do what I do the next time life serves up shit: use it for your garden and enjoy the fruits that grow from it.
(NOTE: If you’re considering therapy, take the following 2 things into account: You’ll only get out of it the amount of work and accountability you’re willing to invest, and make sure you interview different therapists before settling on one. Like most doctors, the good ones are hard to find. Feel free to e-mail me about any of this, including a referral, even if you’re in a different part of the country.)
Hotspur: 1992 – 2007
I had to put my cat Hotspur to sleep at the very end of February, just before I went to the Tucson Gem& Jewelry Show. If you’ve checked out our About Us/Who We Are page then you know I refer to my pets as our “Support Staff.” Fortunately, the dogs Puck and Lily are fine. But Hotspur was 14 ½ years old and very ill with diabetes, pancreatitis and who knows what else. He’d been with me a very long time – longer than I thought he’d be given that I’d had to put his brother down five years ago due to massive kidney failure.
Why the pet discussion? Because they become such vital parts of our lives and families. I often work late into the night; it’s a very quiet and creative time for me. Those hours never feel lonely or empty for me because all I have to do is put a hand down and, in a moment, there’s sure to be soft, warm fur beneath it. When I’m stuck, creatively or otherwise, they’re always good for a laugh. And watching them interact has taught me so much about human behavior. We’re all pack animals, after all, and the patterns don’t differ widely, species to species. It amazed and touched me to watch Hotspur, a cat, gently groom the head of Lily, a neurotic dog at any other time. But when Hotspur would lick the top of her black and white head, Lily would just close her eyes and give in to it. I know the followig is a cliche, but it bares re-stating: If only the human species could get along the way these different species can.
Creatively, I can’t say they inspire my designs directly. But I, like a lot of other artists and designers, do my best work when I’m relaxed and in a content state. All I have to do is watch my dogs play and I’m set. You can’t watch dogs at play and not be happy! Their joy is infectious, their silliness more entertaining than any SNL I’ve ever watched.
It takes the pressure off and makes playing with beads fun again. Petting that soft fur is a great comforter, too, as we all know.
For those of us without children, our pets provide a place to exercise our desire to nurture. And pets are exactly like little kids. For example, I’ll let Puck on the couch only when guests are over. The other week, I’d been watching television for several minutes after my neighbor Sharon had left before I realized Puck was still curled up on the couch. When I looked over at her, she lay perfectly still, her eyes purposefully looking everywhere but at me – just like a little kid hoping her parents won’t catch her in the act if she’s doesn't make eye contact.
Hotspur was notoriously friendly and demonstrative. It was his Siamese nature to announce his desire for attention with a loud, raspy meow. Even my father, who's allergic to cats, couldn't resist Hotspur's noisy entreaties.
My sweet feling had been going downhill for a while, but got substantially worse throughout January. I’m not the kind to talk to my pets, but I actually had a conversation with Hotspur, telling him he had to make it obvious when it was his time to go – and amazingly enough he did just that. I’ll spare you the unpleasant details, but I was so grateful it was truly clear and that his steep decline didn’t happen while I was away.
The dogs have adjusted well enough. I even took them with me to the vet because I thought they should be there as Hotspur passed on. (I was also a little whacked out that morning, to be honest.) I’m slowly getting used to being a cat-less household. And I still have the Puckster and Lilyputt to keep me entertained as well as inspired. If you’ve read all the way to this point, I thank you for allowing me to indulge my love of all things four-legged and furry - and my habit of naming them after characters from Shakespeare. (Hotspur comes from one of the Henry IV's, but I'll be damned if I can ever remember which one...
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