• • •
One of the most valuable tools I learned from Regena was to ask people you admire what they see for you. It’s such a simple concept, but it has proven so effective in my life. Here’s the thinking: Often it’s much easier to dream big for someone you love and care about than it is to dream for yourself, so let your friends, mentors, colleagues, and even family members give their two cents. Knowing all they do about you, what is their vision of you being your best self, accomplishing your best work, and achieving your highest goals?
This strategy has served me very well in the best times and in the worst, but it was especially useful when I was at a crossroads with Tuleh in 2004. For the previous two years I’d felt that Tuleh would be my lifetime career. It was my dream job, and I felt so relieved to have the “defining” of my career behind me. But then so much about the job and the circumstances of the job changed, and I was unsure whether I wanted to further commit to the company by taking some equity or to get out altogether. Heeding Regena’s advice, I went to see a lawyer, Betsy Pearce. She was and still is a fashion industry bigwig, having written contracts for Nicolas Ghesquière, Phoebe Philo, Alexander McQueen, and Christopher Bailey. I so did not feel entitled to ask her for help. But then a friend, fashion veteran Kate Betts, assured me that Betsy would be delighted to see me. I wrote her a polite e-mail, outlining what I wanted to discuss and asking very humbly if she would agree to meet with me. She wrote back immediately, and I was on my way to her office the next morning. We talked through both scenarios in detail, and she quickly pointed out that tying myself down to a declining company was not a great idea, and she felt I had more potential on my own than I did as a partner at Tuleh. I told her that my main resistance to that viewpoint was that I didn’t have a clue what I would do next.
“Write a book,” she answered simply and determinedly.
“Me? I’m not a writer. What would I write a book about?” I asked, feeling confused by her suggestion.
“Think of it as a branding exercise. You have worked for all these amazing people, but now it’s time to tell the world who you are. What’s your point of view on fashion and style?”
Betsy had planted a seed in my head that got me thinking. I liked her idea. But I just had no idea what I would write about. I remember being at Art Basel in Miami with Christopher. We were sitting by the pool at the Raleigh Hotel, and my eyes were fixed on Donna Karan (who was standing at the bar), while brainstorming with Christopher about what kind of book I could write. And then a thought occurred to me. Years before, I had discovered Cheap Chic, a seventies manual/style guide celebrating personal style and dressing on a budget, written by Carol Troy and Caterine Milinaire. When I first flipped through this book, it had resonated with me so strongly. It depicted the scrappy way I had shopped all through my twenties, and it showed more individualism than I’d seen in present-day fashion. Right then I resolved that I would write a new version of Cheap Chic for today, including all styles and price points relevant now.
But how the hell was I going to write a book???? Sure, I’d written some pretty good essays and papers at Brown, but I certainly didn’t feel that I could write an entire book. I spent a few months researching ghost writers—someone who could capture the essence of what I wanted to say and help me say it in a cohesive, identifiable way. I came across Tim Blanks, a fashion writer living in England, and once he agreed to meet with me, I flew to London to explain my ideas and see if he could help me articulate them in writing. I spent three days with Tim talking, talking, talking. I even wrote some things down for him. At the end of our time together, Tim turned to me and said, “You know what, love? You can write this book.”
“Huh?” I wondered aloud while looking at him quizzically.
“You can write this book on your own,” he reiterated. “You’re a great talker. Just write the way you talk. Be conversational. Don’t try to be a writer. Just write down what you would say to a friend.”
Not believing a word he said, I asked him to move ahead with our plan for him to send me a writing sample. Sure enough, two weeks later a few pages summing up our work together arrived in my in-box. I dropped everything I was doing and sat down to read it. It was good. It was really good. But it didn’t sound like me. I struggled to see how I could put my name on something that just wasn’t me. I was left with no choice but to take the confidence Tim had placed in me and start writing.
Armed with the challenge of having a new and exciting chapter to start, I left Tuleh. I would say that I was heartbroken, but in truth my heart had broken long before, when I realized that neither the success of the company nor the circumstances in which I was employed there had fulfilled my hopes and expectations. Shortly afterward, the universe gave my new direction a thumbs-up in the form of the woman who would become my mentor, Diane von Furstenberg.
• • •
The first time I laid eyes on DVF, I was caught in her bed, literally. It was 1993, and I was a freshman at Brown and had been dating her son, Alex, for a few months. We had come to New York for a weekend and were staying at her apartment. She’d been away and allowed Alex and me to stay in her place in the Carlyle. On Sunday afternoon, Alex and I were watching a movie in her bed, and he’d gotten up to get something in the kitchen. It was a cozy apartment and the entry door was directly across from her bedroom. When I realized that she’d walked in the front door, there was no time to vacate her room. In my family home, I wasn’t even allowed to have a boy in my bedroom, let alone share a bed with one, and I was deeply embarrassed that she found me lounging around so casually in hers. My face was bright red. I apologized profusely, but she just laughed and told me to move over. She kicked off her high heels and crawled into bed next to me.
At the time, DVF was in the midst of figuring out the next steps toward relaunching her brand, having closed her fashion business many years earlier. Diane has often said that it was a vulnerable time in her life, but from my point of view, she was empowered and confident and had a very seductive way about her.
I’m not sure what DVF saw in me when we first met. I was wholesome, “not the beauty I would grow into,” as she likes to tell me, and probably a bit overly enthusiastic. But she included me in her creative process, asking what I thought of the book she was about to publish or the line of knitwear she would soon sell to millions of women on QVC. Her mission was to create environments, clothing, and relationships that encouraged women to feel good about themselves. That first stage of our relationship didn’t last long, as Alex and I soon parted ways, but she left me with a sense of approval and self-esteem that ushered me through my college years.
Years later, after I graduated from Brown and moved to New York, Diane and I encountered each other again. Each time I saw her I felt that same connection, that closeness I had felt to her for that brief time when I was in college. Again, she took an interest in me and paid me more attention than I would have expected. Our relationship progressed from seeing her at parties to being invited to events at her home or studio, and eventually she and I would have lunch together, just the two of us. The first time this happened was just after I left Tuleh. DVF invited me to have lunch with her in her West Village town house. I was nervous and not nervous at the same time. I was humbled by the attention and felt so lucky, but also felt the pressure to present my best self and not be boring!
We chatted and chatted over lunch and then when the conversation lulled, she said, “So! You are at a turning point in your career, darling. I think it is time you do something on your own. You have had some impressive jobs working for very successful people, and now it’s time that you find your own success. You have the talent, the intelligence, and the experience to create something in your own vision.” I told her I was in the midst of writing I Love Your Style, and she loved that as a first step. When I left that day she gave me a gift, an African hand-carved wooden bowl with a zebra pattern painted on it, to mark this occasion of r
enewed independence in my life.
• • •
After soaking up every ounce of wisdom offered by Regena, Betsy, and DVF, I gave myself a self-help break for a while, until yet again I found myself looking for answers. I heard from a friend about a business coach named Mark Flashen, who was very effective in helping people achieve their career goals. I was in transition at the time—I’d left Tuleh, was nearing the end of writing I Love Your Style, and was trying to figure out my next career step. I had recently taken on the role of contributing editor at Men’s Vogue and was writing a blog called In Her Eyes, which was a blend of street-style photos, vintage photographs, and writing, all commenting on men’s style from a woman’s perspective. It was really fun—I loved it, in fact—but it only took up a half day per week maximum and I was looking for more to fill my time and my bank account. I wanted to embrace the diversity of the jobs on my résumé and leverage the experience I had and the connections I had made. Mark got me thinking about starting a consulting company. “Consulting on what?” I asked. I wasn’t sure of anything I was doing in my work life at that stage, and I felt stagnant. The first thing Mark did was hold me accountable to things I said I would do or wanted to do. He gave me homework—call this person, e-mail that person, write this list, record your thoughts.
Mark taught me about setting a goal and holding that goal in your mind, but not worrying too much about how to get there. He likened it to sailing: You set a point on the horizon where you want to end up. In order to get there by sailboat, you have to zigzag, and the wind or the current might blow you off course, but eventually if you keep the destination in your sights you will get there, even if your course is not a straight line. This idea stayed with me, and I still think about it all the time. The destination I chose back then was to be a champion of designers, to encourage them, to promote them, to help them accomplish their goals. I was tired of working with just one brand at a time. I loved the personal relationships I had with a handful of young designers, and I wanted to find a way to turn that into a job. The first step in that goal was becoming a fashion consultant. Mark made me establish myself as a company, Amanda Brooks Inc., before I had even one client. Kind of like “If you build it, they will come.” And they did. Anna Wintour e-mailed me shortly after and asked if I wanted to help out Liz Claiborne. They were trying to realign their image as a fashion-relevant brand, and she thought I would be a good person to help them. It wasn’t the coolest first client to have, but there was a great day rate involved and I knew I had the tools to be effective there. Then Diane von Furstenberg followed. She wanted me to be a design consultant, bringing my taste and experience and personal point of view to her design team. Working for DVF was a dream, most of all because I got to watch her in action—how she freely expressed her point of view, how effectively she communicated with her staff, and how gracefully she balanced being a designer and the president of the Council of Fashion Designers of America with being a wife, mother, and grandmother. I had known DVF in a personal way for many years, but seeing her work only multiplied my admiration of her.
I did similar work for Tory Burch; looking over her collection, suggesting which pieces might be added, bringing in vintage samples or old photographs for inspiration. Next came Revlon. Like Liz Claiborne, Revlon wanted to bring back the aspiration to their brand, and I would show them how to use fashion to that effect. Under my recommendation and guidance, they hired current creative director Gucci Westman and sponsored many young designers’ shows. Similar work then came from American Express. I helped them bring access to the most exclusive fashion brands, such as Alexander Wang and Proenza Schouler, to their cardmembers. I loved how this work felt so beneficial to both the big corporations with the deep pockets and the young designers who so valued their support. I also loved the feeling that all my previous job experiences had led me to this place and were now informing the work I was doing. These consulting opportunities proved successful enough that William Morris Endeavor hired me full time as their in-house fashion director, to both represent fashion designers and also to guide big corporations looking to benefit from their consumers’ love of those designers and the clothes they designed. I never thought I’d be working at a Hollywood entertainment agency, but I was doing work that I enjoyed, and at the same time getting closer to the point on the horizon I had chosen as my destination.
A year later, when Barneys was looking for a fashion director, they called me. I immediately wondered if this was to be the destination on the horizon that I had unwittingly yet faithfully chosen a few years before with Mark Flashen.
SIDEBAR
RULES FOR CONSULTING
At twenty-five, I earned my first role as a consultant. I say “earned” because consulting is a privilege you are rewarded with through hard work and experience. You need to know how the fashion industry works, who the players are (and preferably have their phone numbers), and have a well-developed point of view before you are able to contribute creatively, intellectually, logistically, financially, or strategically to a brand. When you have reached the position of being able to use your knowledge and expertise, here’s how you get started:
HOW TO KNOW WHAT YOUR RATE SHOULD BE
Whenever I ponder how much I should be paid for a given job, it’s amazing how often I come back to the very first number that pops into my head. Of course I find it difficult to trust only myself, so I usually talk it through with my husband, a colleague in the industry, and my lawyer before I trust my own initial instinct, but it’s usually my gut that leads me to the right number. And why shouldn’t it? At this point I’ve had years of experience in negotiating and lots of advice from trusted sources. But how do you begin? How do you establish your initial day rate?
—First, ask around. Find out what others in positions such as yours are being paid for similar roles. Various lawyers I employed on my behalf over the years were most helpful in this regard. And also through paying attention to what freelancers were paid in various companies where I worked, I had a sense of who to compare myself to.
—What are the terms? Are they guaranteeing you a certain number of days each week, month, or year? The more of a commitment of time they give you, the more of a discount you should give them off your top rate. The value of this, though, is that you have the security of knowing that you have X number of days already paid for in that time. Conversely, these people are not employing you full time and you are not receiving the benefits of health insurance, pension, or Social Security from them, so your rate should certainly be higher than a full-time employee in a similar position.
—You also have to raise the number from what you actually want to receive to leave room for them to feel as if they are in control. Only very occasionally do people pay you what you ask for. When they do it’s a great feeling, but always be prepared for them to knock your rate down a bit.
—Then, you have to see how the number that makes most intellectual sense sits with you on a personal level. If you feel perfectly comfortable asking for your day rate, then it is certainly too low. I like to feel intellectually justified but also slightly scared to ask for any amount of money in exchange for my services. Negotiating isn’t ever comfortable.
—Always negotiate on behalf of yourself. Your employer is likely to give you more (it’s easier to beat up a lawyer or agent than it is your future employee), and it’s good for your confidence and your business skills.
LOGISTICS
In order to have a well-functioning freelance work life that maximizes your time effectively, you need to establish some rules with your employer. Now, I can’t say these rules would necessarily fly if you are twenty-two years old and just starting out, but by the time I was thirty, had worked for a handful of impressive companies, and was running my own consulting company, these rules were imperative to ensuring that my time was used in the most effective manner.
—The minute you leave your office to go to an outside meeting o
n behalf of a client, you charge three hours, the equivalent of half a day. Think about it—you need to get yourself to the meeting, have the meeting, and get to wherever you are going next. By most city standards, it’s quite possible that it could take you forty-five minutes or an hour to get from one meeting to the next, making it impossible to fit another client into your half day, so you should bill your client for that time.
—For the same reasons as above, as soon as you spend more than four hours at any client’s office or at a meeting on their behalf that is away from your office, you charge a full day’s rate.
—Whenever possible, avoid charging by the hour, even for work done in your own office on a client’s behalf. Keeping track of hours is tedious and takes time away from creative and strategic thinking. It’s far better to put some thought into how many hours a project will take and get the client to agree to those hours in advance. Apart from meeting time, I always have research and presentation hours built into my contracts and negotiated in advance. You may not get the hours perfectly right the very first time, but you will learn quickly. Also, you can have an agreement regarding additional hours if need be. Occasionally, if I found I was working longer hours on a project than was agreed to, I notify the client and they have the choice of committing to more hours from me or not.
HAPPINESS IN CONSULTING
—I have never found the one perfect consulting client, nor do I ever expect to. The gratification that I found as a consultant came from my work and my clients as a whole, on the balance, more than it came from any one person or company. There are so many ways to be unhappy or annoyed as a consultant—the client doesn’t listen to you, they don’t follow through on what you suggest, they changed your idea, they took credit for your idea, they don’t use you as much as you thought they would—it goes on and on. But here’s the thing—you must not define yourself or your happiness through any one client. However, when you gather and select clients and add them to your stable, consider how they will fit in to the whole picture: Do you like what the company does? Are you proud to work for them? Do they pay well? Is it a reasonable commitment of time? All of these things are relative to what your working life looks like now and how you can improve it.
Always Pack a Party Dress: And Other Lessons Learned From a (Half) Life in Fashion Page 14