Growing Over A Wall
Over lunch with the family the other day we were talking and laughing about the funny things my nieces used to say when they were learning to talk. What joy their little equivocations brought and still bring to us. It was those very mistakes that brought the smiles and laughter. I was those mistakes that enriched our lives and the family lexicon. Don’t get me wrong, if they hadn’t learnt from those mistakes there might be cause for concern, but they did, and here we all are with a richer vocabulary and some very special memories.
Why then do we learn over time to see our mistakes as failures? Why do mistakes feel so much more catastrophic than they did when we were small? Why do we castigate ourselves so harshly for getting it wrong?
My journey of reflection regarding my personal failings is only just beginning – at the age of 40. A birthday ‘celebrated’ during lockdown 1.0. The story I have been telling myself is that I’ve been banging my head against a brick wall for 15 years. Ever since I set up my own business. But I wonder if I can change the past simply by reframing it and looking at it through different eyes?
In 2007 I left a hight flying job as the head pattern cutter for the luxury fashion house Burberry, and I flew to Nepal for a three week trek and a life affirming opportunity to shake London, and some intense fashion capitalism, from my bones. My choice to ponder while hiking in the Himalayas was whether to leave the fashion industry altogether, or to embark on my long held ambition to launch my own design label. Thus far I had spent my career bringing other people’s designs to life, and now it felt that it was my turn. My aim was to bring a long lost elegance back to fashion, which seemed at the time determined to androgenise and uglify. I craved femininity and beauty. So, inspired by my grandma’s tea dresses and photographs of stylish 1930s picnics by the sea, I designed my first collection of silk dresses. That was in 2008, just as the global economy crashed.
My dresses were admired, and I enjoyed some success. But it just didn’t take off as I had hoped and planned. I created another collection, and another, and another. But the story didn’t change. I was disappointed, but I wasn’t beaten. I decided that perhaps if I started offering bespoke wedding dresses I would still be creating beautiful designs and fulfilling my desire to bring prettiness and femininity to the world, and I might hopefully be able to make a sustainable living while I was at it. Again, I didn’t do badly, but the work was unpredictable and I couldn’t scale the business because I couldn’t recruit staff with the skill set required to manufacture couture bridalwear.
At this time I decided that it might be time to consider a change of career, so I took a diploma in horticulture and split my time between making wedding dresses, gardening and studying. It was a happy and rewarding time for me. I had outlets and inlets for all my favourite things - creativity, nature and learning. But when I was invited, out of the blue, by LaSalle college of the Arts in Singapore to lecture for a semester in innovative pattern cutting I decided that the opportunity was too good to pass up. Off I went, back to the other side of the world. And back to the other side of my world. I had forgotten how much I gained from the buzz of the fashion industry, and I had also forgotten to a certain degree how good I was at my job. And it was at this point that I made what I consider to be my fatal mistake. I came home and bought a clothing factory that was on the point of closure. My aim was to save the jobs of the team of experienced seamstresses and to continue the tradition of garment manufacture in South Cumbria. Not to mention of course giving myself a worthwhile and exciting job. For the previous five years I had been doing some freelance design and pattern cutting work for the owners, and they had been slowly winding the business down as they neared retirement while looking for some likely candidate to take the factory on. I had repeatedly told them that it wasn’t going to be me. In my heart I knew that it wasn’t right, but my head had been swayed in Singapore, and when I considered all the alternatives available to me at the time, I decided to take a risk on it.
In my early thirties at the time, what was I risking? My mental health? My opportunity to have a family? My life savings? Well yes. I certainly sacrificed all of the above. And I can’t deny that it has felt pretty shattering at times to consider these effects. In 2017 I made the decision to sell the business after three years of ‘banging my head against a brick wall’. As it turned out the process of selling the business turned out to be exactly that – another brick wall to give me a sore head. Two buyers a year apart took the purchase of the business to the final minute before deciding to pull out of the deal. So in the end I made the decision to close the doors and make my staff of five redundant.
Since then I’ve been through two years of varying and sometimes extreme emotions, ranging from anger and self pity, to relief and a sense of freedom. I had lost everything, I had failed to save the failing business and I had wasted the most important years of my life. At least that was how it felt at the time. And yet, at that time I also felt an incredible feeling of freedom, and a sense that I was at the beginning of a new chapter of my life. A rebirth, a new spring, an opportunity to regrow and flourish again. The last seven years have taken an enormous toll on my self confidence, my self belief, my creativity and my willingness to put faith in my ideas and dreams. Friends, family and a wonderful therapist have helped me to rebuild myself., they’ve been the solid roots that have nourished me. Time, nature and love are all great healers. As Carl Jung said “When you are up against a wall, put down roots like a tree, until clarity comes from deeper sources to see over that wall and grow”.
Where I honestly didn’t want to even look at another sewing machine two years ago, my passion has been rekindled and my motivation has been re-energized. I have allowed myself to believe that I might actually be capable of winning at life and business. I mean, perhaps I could learn from my experiences in a positive way. Not learn never to repeat my mistakes, but instead learn where the pitfalls lie. Learn where my strengths lie. Learn to allow others to help me. Learn practical lessons, and emotional lessons. And most importantly, learn to believe in myself.
So in the spring of 2021 I put my energy into designing a new product line. ‘Sewing’ a new seed you might say. One that I had previously told myself not to bother pursuing because I was bound to fail. Why would I want to do that to myself again?! But you see I do want to do it. I want to do it wholeheartedly and with all my conviction. As with all my creations, my passion is for using natural materials in order not only to harness their abundant properties like breathability, warmth and coolness, but also to ensure that when they eventually become redundant (as we all must one day) they will not remain on the planet for the next few thousand years. I have always been concerned that even the outdoor brands with the best of intentions are still using polyester and recycle plastics to make their weather proof gear. I want to be different. So I looked to the past, as I often do when I consider how to be friendlier to the planet. I want my weather proof clothing to be made of natural fibres, and I want my products to bring back a feeling of a time that is now sadly behind us. Call me sentimental, but I can’t help but look back at my mother’s old photos of skiing in Norway in the 1970s, or watch the Heroes of Telemark, without a hankering for a bit more style, a bit more simplicity and perhaps a bit less stuff. Could one all-weather garment really see you through a ski tour in the Alps, a sailing weekend on the Broads, a school run, a dog walk along the beach, and a hike to the summit of Helvellyn? I think it jut could….and it’s called the Horsley Norwester smock. And I am quietly proud to introduce it to the world.
And the moral of this little tale? Well, I could have given up on myself. So many times. And I very nearly did. So many times. I saw my life only as a failure, measured by all the things I got wrong, or the life goals that I failed to achieve. But look at that another way, and I have attained a huge amount of learning, I have filled my life with adventure and, who knows, I might have finally created a product that strikes a chord with people and might be the making of me.
Never give up on yourself, and most importantly, never be afraid to fail! It’s in the mistakes that we find the true value and the true lessons of this life. My nieces are still learning, and still making brilliant mistakes, even as they reach double figures. Just think, without their little errors we’d live in a world without ‘designated’ coconut, ‘omanges’ and ‘cloppenshoes’.
Ele Horsley
https://www.instagram.com/horsleycouture/
If you enjoyed this piece, you might also like Mending Our Ways and Uri