Irish born, living in NYC since 1994. I am mindful of living the only life I have authentically. I quit corporate fashion to give life to my talent and create beautiful wearables again. I write to find my voice anew.
Measure twice, cut once
It was my mother who inspired me to start sewing and encouraged me to keep going when I wanted to give up most. She was a dressmaker, a talented crafter, and in her past time needled and crafted beautiful things. From fine Irish lace, needlepoint, and floral arranging her technique was structured by the traditional, textbook quality that followed the rules of that time. When her brand new, state-of-the-art "New Home" sewing machine arrived transatlantic, all the way from the USA, I begged her to let me have a go at it and my journey began. Using the treasured 'bag of rags' we purchased for 7 Irish pounds from the Fruit of the Loom factory store in Buncrana, Co. Donegal, I started chopping and sewing pieces of purged cotton and sweatshirt materials, creating my first designs and I haven't stopped creating since then.
Hindsight can be a terrifying shadow. @anniqueNYC I grew up in a public house on the edge of the Curragh plains, slap bang in the heart of Ireland's vanishing triangle. We moved there in 1974 from Dublin city where we had lived in a flat, above my grandfather's pub. It was a fixer-upper business and my parent's dream home. Lumville House is a scenic Georgian estate and a historic property, dating back to the 1780s when first owned by Col. Charles Lumm, a champion race trainer. The home settled on its own landscaped acre which my mother nurtured for the picture-perfect backdrops in hundreds of bridal photos now hanging, collecting dust somewhere in Ireland today. The function room my uncle Christy built was a brand new, modern extension to the growing business that catered to 250 people at full capacity for French service catering. Thursday through Sunday, it also transformed into a rural Irish studio 54 as home to 'Club Tequila', the brainchild of my father and the first nightclub in a twenty-five-mile radius. It was the coolest, hippest place to be back then with eight to ten hunky Irish army bouncers manning the doors, packed to its capacity by 10.30 pm. Phyllis Murphy was just one girl who danced to the lights and moved to the rhythm below me, that disco jive pulsating, I could feel the beat thumping, and my brothers and I loved it. In hindsight, looking back at the darkness, I wonder how many killers preyed there, committing boogie-woogie on my family's dance floor?
Your dreams are real
RevampAtelier - @anniqueNYC Unworthy her The number of times her broken, humbled, small-scale spirit made big career decisions? The many steps backward taken by her flawed, childish sense of duty, rejecting opportunities that felt unburdened. Opportunities still realized in her dreams. When she didn't hit the goals her damaged identity set for her, the superego imposed penalties that compounded over the years until bang!
My Sincere Gratitude
Peach Roses! That color of rose has a meaningful significance for me. I don’t normally notice peach roses during my daily doings, but today, of all days, and as I should have predicted, there they are across the deli floor, beautifully whispering in the morning May sunlight “remember me”, and teleporting me back to recovering May memories and beyond.