Design Room Zen

So after my first day back at work, I was going to write a whole post about the zen art of papercutting. I've switched to a new department after there wasn't an opportunity to advance in my old department, and now I'm in a very assistant-ish role...which, my first day, involved scads of slicing apart xeroxed photos of all the line's runway looks, sliding them into plastic display sleeves, and pasting the sleeves onto numbered garment bags for each look. The design team is headed to NYC to prep for New York Fashion Week, which starts a week from today, so, glamorous or no, they needed all sorts of petty little things done. Sewing on last-minute buttons, typing and re-typing packing lists, organizing said "looks" and getting them packed and ready to go, lining up seamstresses in New York to help with final-second fittings and alterations...and that's just the start. I wasn't too peeved at having to crouch on the ground for hours labeling garment bags--even though their plastic smells intensely of chemicals and may well explain the out-of-it-ness of certain long-term designers--because everyone was stepping in to do these nasty but essential jobs. If I didn't label the looks, they'd get all mixed up on the racks and the models could get sent out on the runway wearing the wrong skirt and the wrong tights in the wrong order! (IMAGINE the consequences.) And what I noticed was how unbothered I was by having to stand over the papercutter (which took, by the way, at least 15 minutes to find. Who knew there were like 6 different "Graphics Rooms"?) for ages, slicing apart precious pictures of my employer's new offerings for Fall 2008. It was actually really calming; a friend of mine admitted that she happily does the dishes for the same reason.

The next day, though, is why this post surpasses its original intent. That was the day I discovered the zen art of rolling ribbons. There was an enormous box heaped with miles of ribbon, all of which needed to be separated and neatly rolled up for the designers' convenience in New York. It was a little harder to stay zen with the ache in my shoulder from winding ribbon and the frustration at untangling knots bigger than my head. Still, I thought, not the worst thing ever. I had some rought things I needed to think about and this was a good solo activity. Soon, I'm sure, I'll be scurrying around doing design room duties and will wish for peaceful ribbon-rolling.

Little did I know that today I'd be introduced to the zen art of...tracing enormous fabric prints onto dot paper! Standing over a drafting table with my eye about one inch from the paper, transferring every tiny spot of color from the original onto the new paper so the textile designer could redo the color scheme. It took forever.
"This is going to really help her," I thought while grinding my teeth. "She's really busy and wouldn't be able to do the new colors otherwise," I reasoned while wiping a drop of sweat from my forehead before it violated the tracing. "This sucks, but you have to pay your dues, right? Maybe this will make a funny story! There must be some good side to dislocating my neck while doing a task that probably would be done better by a photocopier! I AM LEARNING! KARMA WILL REWARD ME IN THE END! ZEN! ZEN!"

When I brought the tracing back to the designer, she eyed it and said, "Mmm...ok. That's fine. That will do." I almost pulled my hair out. Or hers. Perhaps I should return to papercutting.