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Tuesday, August 23, 2005

I dreamt of you last night, white luminous skin, soft and smooth and filled with liquid. We were 20 again and in your apartment, silly girls, dressing up as sex pots and photographing each other in 'come hither' poses, giggling madly at one another's best imitation of what a sex pot's pout must look like. Now we are here. This point. And, I never told you how much you meant to me or how you make old age manageable as I can see us both there, seventy, two wrinkled prunes standing on the shallow end of a pool with rubber caps on, giggling madly, probably due to the onset of dementia.
You cannot leave us yet.
Please God, if you give Kelley one more chance I will take the same pledge she must and abstain completely from all alcohol (and this is a big sacrifice because I love that really good bottle of red wine.)
I cannot imagine you gone Kelley. Life would be less without you in the world.

American Apparel, Sexual harassment and my take on it

Sunday, August 14, 2005

Life is haunting. Melodious. Lovely.

My husband commented "I thought you were a feminist." I am a feminist, but a feminist with a background overflowing with masochistic thoughts and behavior. While always trying to maintain an affinity with those around me, I have been passionate, I have been headstrong, I have lived and I have most certainly loved. I have flirted with my bosses because it was fun and married men because it was wrong and women because they were cute and women with boyfriends because it was entertaining. I haven't used my sexuality to get ahead in the workplace simply because I was never that enchanted with position (plus what sort of power would I feel from gaining my position using sex? Also, how often does this really happen?) Am I a feminist? In my eyes I have always been a feminist as I have always equated this word with warrior. Warrior to protect, to fight, to conquer. The problem with my feminist nature is directing it properly. Conquering what? Fighting for what? Protecting whom? Where it falls short is with myself. But, perhaps this is in itself the surest sign of femininity and surely we haven't become so inured by the word feminist to no longer acknowledge the most feminine parts? How was that for circular reasoning?

I have been deluged with comments on the lascivious behavior on the part of the owner of American Apparel, the only supplier of our t-shirts. We use AA because the quality is top notch, the styling modern and we know for a fact that AA is made in the US and not in a sweatshop. I have been asked again and again how we feel about buying from a vendor that exploits women in the workplace (proof a series of lawsuits filed against the owner.)

Obviously we can't support a company that exploits women in the workplace. I mean the entire reason for using AA is because it refuses to exploit its workers in a market space where every other vendor DOES.

Here is my take. Let's see what happens with these lawsuits. Dov isn't settling and perhaps it is because he is innocent and pissed off.

Also, I visited AA last week and I expected to be bombarded with bombshells, especially on the seventh floor. I somehow wanted the atmosphere to ooze sex but, um it didn't...at all. The women were all just average in appearance (not trying to be mean or anything but I had some high expectations after all those articles) and everyone was running around doing their job. There was a really high % of Hispanics employed in all positions. It was hot and LA and lots of guys were just hanging outside on breaks.

Damn it, where was all the lechery? The employees who were encouraged to have sex with one another were busy with other things. I left disappointed but happy to have American Apparel to make my blanks and until I hear differently I will stand by a company that adopted higher ideals than most anyone else dared to in the same industry. Call me naive, call me an idiot but I like to believe that something as good as AA is real.

Magic Wholesale Show

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

I am sitting in a cafe in San Francisco. Being here with a 2 year old is not the same as being here single, unencumbered and jobless. I am leaving this time with no feelings of regret but at the same time I feel no real attachment to Portland either. Makes my stomach rather queasy feeling so ungrounded. Baby Wit has been hard core this past month. Kristin, our production manager, ended up in the hospital for over a week with a serious illness and I just hired 2 new people. Magic is right around the corner and we are slowly gearing up for it. Wonder if the show will just be a huge waste of $ or have a nice ROI. I promised Jim I would never do another tradeshow if this one didn't go well. Just takes so much out of a person but I am pretty damn excited about making this move.
While visiting I got to see some good friends but that feeling of detachment won't leave me. I don't know what is going on.
We ate at the Indian Oven for dinner our second night in town and entered some drug induced state of absolute euphoria. Jim commented that he understood the desperate hunt for Indian spices in the 1600s.
Last night we had dinner with some old friends and one of them had bright green hair, like bugs or frogs in the tropics might sport. Ava is still telling me "that green man scares Ava". Jim decided not to dye his hair green.
I can't write much because Jim is actually watching Ava so I can get some work done....
but I am pretty excited about our new line coming out this spring...