A Deep Housecleaning

It’s Easter, and I have spent the last two days with my brother at my mother’s house.  We have together gone through every room, every drawer and closet, sorting her belongings in the wake of death in June.

If you have done this mammoth task I am sure you understand how I am feeling.  Every single item, every t shirt, every book, I know.  I grew up in this house.  My child has spent summers here.  Every item is tied to a time, a memory.  And my brother and I are deciding what we take with us, and what we leave behind.

It’s brutal.  And humbling.  And heartwarming.  And exhausting.  I write this in my childhood bedroom, on the furniture I have had since I was four years old. My mother died in this house.  The shock of her untimely departure I will never truly believe.  It was just so unlike her.  She was so organized and so prepared.

I have found books here of her handwriting, noodling over numbers at Bespoke.  My mother was the accounts manager…but so much more than that.  She was the secret CFO.  For fun, because she loved it, my mother would crunch numbers in a notebook for the business while she watched tv.  She would - by hand, written in pencil - analyze who on the team was doing well, who needed help.  Pages and pages, books filled.  It was her passion, supporting me in Bespoke.  She had run her own small business for twenty years,  a children’s clothing boutique.  She closed it to work in the back end of Bespoke.  Our success was a dream come true to her, literally. She pinched herself daily.  Between Bespoke and my child, the last ten years of my mother’s life were her best.

This deep housecleaning in my life coincides with our change of booking system.  An accident sure, but is it really?  I honestly feel a cosmic shift sweeping through my entire life.  A need to shed the past, take with me only what I need.  To simplify, clarify.  Bespoke has been in DC for over a decade.  Our menu has expanded, and my team turned over many times.  I feel the need to clean house in every aspect of my life.  It is a bit overwhelming, but I am reminded by that quote of Anais Nin…”"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom”.  I have been to this place before in my life, a few times.  Things can not remain the same, and that will require me to let go of much.  I know it will be worth it, as painful as this moment is.

You might have received a call or text from me recently.  Bold move I know, but why have I done that?  I am reminded of seventeen. years ago, at the age of 31, being in this house. Being in London, and being utterly lost in life.  Knowing I needed to change, but not knowing in which direction to turn.  I came home, frightened and depressed over Christmas break.  I - with my mother’s help - made a list of what I wanted in a career, and what I did not.

Want:  A peaceful environment.  Simplicity.  Science, objectivity in my work.  To know a craft that indisputably made people’s lives better.  To not punch a clock.  One on one conversations with people, with no bs attached.  

Did not want:  other people’s stress and drama constantly sucking my energy.  

My mother suggested esthetics, given my lifelong skin problems and interest in fixing them.  We found a school in London for me, and when I returned I began my studies there.

In our next chapter I envision a model where I can reconnect with my initial vision, dreamed up in my childhood home at 31.  I want to connect with more of you, for us to know each other.  Trust me, if you visit us you know me whether you know it or not.  Every item in the office has been placed by my mother and I.  It is our home, just as much as the childhood home I sit in as I write it is.    My mother found this office when my boy was three months old.  We spend six months getting into it and then shut it down for covid.  Every inch is tied to me, and to her.  But I do feel I have strayed from my original vision having scaled so far up.  I am trying to steer the ship into clearer, calmer waters.  My first step in that is connecting with our clients, personally. I am craving it. And I think as I approach my 50s, it’s about working smarter not harder.  Quality over quantity.  Please pardon my dust as we get there.

What is next for us?  We are changing.  New booking system, simplified menu, truly useful membership that I hope feels like a reward for your grace in bearing with us through every bump in the road.  And in this next chapter, I hope to make clear that now more than ever, my door is open and I want to know you.

Thank you for coming on the ride with me, and trusting me.  Trust me I feel your support, every time I see your name on the schedule.  Thank you for sharing this home with me, and my family.

My mom painting shelves in the first office.