Beauty in Slow Progress

What’s something in your life that you feel grateful for?

For me, one thing I feel deeply thankful for is learning how to sew.

That said, I’m still figuring things out — especially when it comes to things like tariffs and sourcing costs.
There’s still so much I don’t know — like how the changing tariff situation will affect the final cost of each item. I want to keep my prices reasonable, especially for a sustainable brand — because I’m designing for people who are just beginning their careers, people starting out on their own professional paths, people who deserve thoughtful pieces even when their budgets are tight.

I’ve been reflecting on that a lot lately. Especially now, when the world still feels uncertain — jobs are hard to find, plans are hard to make, and so many people I care about are feeling a little stuck.

It reminds me of a story I read recently that really stayed with me.

The book follows a new graduate who can’t find a job. He sends out resume after resume — without a clear focus on what field he wants to work in — and goes to interview after interview, only to keep hearing no. He feels stuck. Defeated. Like maybe he isn’t good at anything, or doesn’t have anything valuable to offer.

Then something shifts.

He meets a part-time coworker who plays guitar in a band. One day, the coworker quits — his band has been signed. The main character is surprised, even a little jealous. He says, “It must be nice to have something only you can do.”
But the coworker replies:

“There’s no such thing as something only one person can do.
But there are things that become better because you do them.”

That line hit me. Because it’s true — your version of something, shaped by your experiences and your heart, is what makes it meaningful.

Later in the story, the main character starts learning guitar himself. It’s not easy — his fingers hurt, his progress is slow. But he keeps going. And he begins to find joy in the effort. Eventually, he applies for a job at a music school, and when asked why, he says:

“When my fingers stopped hurting and got stronger, I felt proud of myself.”

The story ends with the interviewer standing up, a spark in his eyes — a quiet sign of approval. The kind of sign the main character had been hoping for all along.

That moment really stayed with me.

Because maybe we’re all just figuring it out.
And maybe what matters most isn’t finding the perfect thing — but starting something that feels worth doing, even when it’s hard. Even when you’re unsure.

That’s how this blouse came to life.

Not because I had everything figured out — but because I wanted to make something that felt good. For myself, and for people like me. Something easy to wear, made with care. A small reminder that we’re allowed to begin, even when we don’t yet know where it will lead.

I’m so grateful for the patternmaking and sewing courses that helped sharpen my skills and bring this blouse into being. Of course, I’m not the best seamstress — but I’m using this sample as a step forward. I’m learning. I’m looking for manufacturers. And I’m building toward something, one piece at a time.

So I’ll ask again:

What’s something you feel grateful for right now?
And what’s something you’d like to get a little better at — just for you?

Wherever you are in your journey, I hope you let yourself begin.
Even slowly. Even imperfectly. That’s how the best stories start.