MY FIRST (AND ONLY) FLOP COLLECTION AND EVERYTHING IT TAUGHT ME

If you own your own brand then you know the perils of the “flop collection”. The pain that comes from putting your heart and soul in to your art, crafting what you think is the craziest piece ever, making all the samples, printing all the items, and running some marketing that, in your mind, is fucking hard. And then, what happens? It flops. Bad. That is some serious devastation, something that brand owners hope to only feel once. And thank God it only happened once for me. 

But also, I’m so grateful it happened. Let me tell you why.

To set the scene, it’s 2021. I have about 2 years of skin in this game. And I am cocky. My collections prior to this particular one were going absolutely nuts. I’d started those OG Ski Masks, hand sewn by an excellent seamstress in Connecticut. Every time I put them on the website, they sold out in 2-4 minutes. And I was on an absolute high from it. For reference, these are the ski masks I'm talking about (ifykyk):

A couple months later, my own personal issues resulted in my Facebook ads account being completely shut down. I was mortified, but, I thought, I’ve been running it up, let me go even crazier. 

I decided, I would step away from the Ski Masks briefly and focus entirely on an innovative (for the time) collection heavily inspired by my impending trip to England and Sweden. England is where I am from. I moved here from London when I was 8 and I wanted to pay homage to the style that was sweeping over the European fashion scene, while also applying my own little twist to it. 

And so, I commenced on designing this collection. Looking back on it, 3 years later, it would have hit big now. But at the time, with these styles not being popular in the US yet, a lack of Facebook ads, and an ever-changing Instagram algorithm it was destined for failure, apparently.

Here are some of the pieces:

We had boxy fitted, paneled, button-up shirts, a crazy mistmatched hoodie, printed dress shirts, jumbo printed tshirts, a tufted rug, and temporary tattoos.

I was amped to say the least. And I was on the first flight out to London to go on the trip of my life, one filled with business and some of the best personal experiences I have ever had.

We had worked many times with BVDLVD, one of the hottest underground artists in England.

He featured us in his music video for D!CKHEAD and had sported our clothes in many a photoshoot. And he was working with Saara Shots, an incredibly talented photographer in England, who’s work I had admired since I started this brand. I knew this was my opportunity to work with him on a lookbook. Only problem was, I had no t-shirt samples. I only brought the button-up and the dress shirt.

If you have your own brand, then you know it is a challenge (to say the least), to find the right manufacturer. Let alone find one in another country with a quick turnaround time for a photoshoot that was, what I felt, make or break. Somehow, I did it. Shoutout to the mom and pop print shops in London.

We set the shoot up, did a clothing drop off to them, and got these absolutely fire images in return. They were lovely and this was my first big lookbook with an artist. I was absolutely stocked. Peep these.

But the things you don’t see when you follow someone's clothing brand journey are all the other personal details. To say life kicked the absolute shit out of me in the following 2 weeks would be to say the least. As I am on this high, traveling around Europe, living my best life, a family member was diagnosed with cancer. They had a month or two, maybe, left to live. My personal relationships took a serious hit because of my own actions, I own that. And my ‘trip of a lifetime’ quickly turned into a horror show.

(London, England- photo taken by me)

(Stockholm, Sweden - photo taken by me)

I was on a flight back to the US and I was absolutely gutted. 

I immediately took a trip out to see my family member, and as I helped care for them and show up with my other family members in any way that I could, I still kept the dream of this drop alive. I ran the marketing, released the clothes, and kept a lot of hope going in a trying time.

And I got 1 sale. Well 2, if you count my mom. She’s a real one.

I was heartbroken. And I felt like my life was falling apart. I dropped Demon Child all together for months after this. And dove into spending as much time with my family as I could.

And what did I learn? My family member’s passing taught me a lot. Life is fleeting. That’s usually what people learn in death. It’s fleeting and you should enjoy the present moment. But I also learned this sense of spiritual acceptance. My family member (an avid scientist and prolific biological researcher) told me, days before their passing, that the most amazing thing they learned was that, when we are made, right when the embryo and sperm collide, there is a burst of light. They said that when we are created, the universe enters us, and when we die, we enter the universe. My family member, their favorite memories were little ones: watching the fox that lived in their yard, observing the bees on the porch, and getting to know all the birds outside. Did I enjoy the little moments in my life? Or did I let my life pass by as a series of success and failures that I tortured myself with?

It was the latter. And after a long period of grieving and processing, I came back to Demon Child and my flop collection and my bruised ego and realized that none of it mattered. I learned how to create crazy cut and sewn European style pieces. I found manufacturers and had t-shirts printed in my home country. And I did my first ever lookbook with an artist there, too. I loved and I lost during that period. And I enjoyed myself. I learned. I evolved. And I grew. As a business owner and as a person.

And it was the first time I really truly realized that I could get the fuck back up. And that’s what I did.

Your flops don’t define you, what you do with everything afterwards does. Your pieces, your successes, your failures, don’t define you, what you do with them does. And, at the end of the day, when you’re facing your maker, what will matter? All of the BS that you consume yourself with everyday? Or if you enjoyed every moment, no matter how painful they are?