Something New, Not Me, and Being Me

It all started with MLM. The lure of driving a brand new car in about a few months into the business was such a sweet goal. But I guess the reason why recruiters want a fast and immediate sign up is because they want their recruit to think of nothing else but the brand new car. In fact, when the invitation came and I heard all these too-good-to-be-true testimonies, my head began filling with illusions of what I could have. However, I felt a tug that something about me has changed. From thereon, my waking moments started with plans of recruiting (as that’s where the money is). Potential recruits buzz incessantly in my head. I think of my relatives and how much they have. I think of my friends and imagine a conversation of what to say so they can cough up the needed investment. I think of everyone as a wannabe investor, a money machine, and step closer to my brand new car.

Until I had that one disturbing sleepless night. Something was not right. I need second, third, even fourth opinions. I need “yays” and “nays”. I started to weigh things — my relationships, my works, my morals. I poked around the company, dug a little deeper, and asked direct selling groups and associations. Somehow, I started thinking of everything else BUT the brand new car.

And the consensus, no, MLM is not for me. Bye bye car. I can’t afford you now, but I still have Waway (our not-so-reliable but okay-to-be-with 16-year old car).

Burdened with burgeoning expenses, unpaid credit card bills, and irregular flow of income, I was close to regretting about not pursuing networking. I was desperate for something, anything that did not rely on internet (as working on the internet means me not sleeping nights ‘coz that’s the only time that my connection is tolerable, yet to the detriment of my health), that could widen my financial horizons.

Thanks to my big sis and young bro for the intensive online brainstorming (aka swapping emails and messages), I totally discarded the networking venture, and with their help and encouragement, I settled on my long-lost leisurely hobby on printing shirts and creating dresses. But my “artistic inclinations” were so long ago. Way way back in my grade school Home Economics and high school Practical Arts endeavors. Good for me though, I have a family who sees me through my grunts, failures, and indecisiveness.

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The “Before” Sketch

Enrolling in a 4-hour/week two-month workshop on fashion construction at a fashion school in Makati got me perked up, reinvigorated. And so is big sis who, I believe believed in me more than I believed in myself, is much too willing to invest and also become my first model-client.

Despite my utter aversion in the worsening traffic, I am once again hailing in Manila, leaving the comforts of my room in Bulacan. During our second session, we were asked to sketch. “Anything that comes into your mind,” says our instructor. I haven’t drawn a thing for ages. But I have to try. My initial sketch looked like the sketch on the left, the “Before” sketch–

As you can see, the neck, shoulders, and arms were disproportionate. Well, everything were out of scale. Since I thought only the dress counts, I skipped the arms (which were getting dis-muscular) and the legs.

Our class became lively. It’s like only 2 out of 10 of us can draw. It was pure comedic relief. Then, we were introduced to nine-heads, the croquis, our “sketchy” salvation.

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…then the CROQUIS

Once done with our paper model, we were asked to re-draw our sketch with the croquis underneath. And viola!

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The “After” Sketch

I felt quite accomplished. It was a good first try. Big sis has already commissioned this dress but with sleeves. I’m not sure if it’s to give me the much needed push, or if she really liked it. Well, regardless, a client is a client. I’ll measure her up, and I hope I measure up to her expectations.

About walangmalay

Walang Malay is a figment of sentiments, of wonders and perplexities, of ideologies and dreams, of anything about something. Ako ito, walang malay... o nawalan ng kamalayan...

Posted on September 13, 2015, in Fjashion. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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