A little over five years ago, I was in the process of making my fashion design dreams come true. I had designed several repeating patterns for the streetwear brand called Berried Alive I was running with my husband Charlie. Then I drew dozens of 2D sketches for custom cut-and-sew garments using these repeating patterns. I also used a few graphics we had designed by other artists in really unique ways on some of the pieces. Everything was totally on-brand, completely unique, and super luxe. We narrowed the dozens of sketches down to 5 pieces for our first cut-and-sew collection for the brand. I knew we’d use all the rest of the sketches later on, plus my creativity knows no bounds, so I’d make dozens or even hundreds more sketches, and we’d produce them all eventually.

**Let’s Get Bananas Windbreaker**

One of the 5 designs that was to be included in the first Berried Alive cut-and-sew collection.

**Legendberry Track Suit**

Two more pieces included in the collection.

We contacted Portland Garment Factory to help us with sourcing and samples for the first 5-piece collection. PGF is a local woman-owned business and a B-Corp, and they do all kinds of really cool brand collaborations and produce extremely professional work, so we knew we were in good hands. They got to work sourcing all the materials that would make my sketches come to life, sitting with us in meetings to choose between fabrics, trims, and colors. We were so excited to receive and approve the first strike-off samples of the fabrics we’d selected, printed with my repeating pattern designs. With that done, PGF were getting started on the first fit samples. Everything was finally happening! Charlie and I were so excited to take our brand to this next step.

**“I could die right now”**

Seeing the Legendberry printed velvet strike-off for the first time.

And then the pandemic happened. We had only been able to try on one fit sample, for a windbreaker jacket, by this point. The process ground down to a slow crawl. PGF is a very professional company, like I said, and they didn’t give up on us, but for safety reasons they weren’t able to operate at full capacity anymore. I didn’t know if or when the process would start up again. It felt like the dream I had been so positive was about to come true was swept out from under me. People kept using the term “unprecedented times” to describe that feeling where none of us knew what was going to happen or if things would ever go back to normal.

**She doesn’t know what’s about to hit her…**

My extreme excitement trying on a first fit sample of the windbreaker at PGF. This was just a couple weeks before the pandemic started.

I know everybody was feeling the same way, and in some ways it was nice to know that the entire world was in the same position, with our hopes and dreams up in the air and life in a sort of limbo. One thing that helped me was writing songs for the musical portion of Berried Alive. I wrote the song Lemon Drop about this situation with our first collection, and the feelings of failure that it wasn’t going to happen the way I’d hoped it would. The song says, “I think the most hopeless word is ‘almost’,” because that’s how I was feeling about our clothing brand at that time.

Slowly, the world opened back up and PGF finished our samples, after a few months where I didn’t really know what was going to happen. We couldn’t afford to have PGF produce our entire collection, but they had done all the sourcing for us back before the pandemic started, and gave me a list of who I could contact to get all the raw materials for the garments. But when I started calling around to these places, the pandemic had left their supply chains in ruins and many of the materials were no longer available, with no estimate as to when they’d be back in stock. I was starting to feel hopeless about the whole situation all over again.

Eventually, through a fan with contacts in the manufacturing industry, we were able to produce one of the garments from the collection, a logo camo jacket with a coppery liquid lamé interior and a large back graphic, in China. The fabrics and trims weren’t exactly the same as the ones we’d so carefully picked out for the original samples, but they were as close as possible. I had also been hoping to produce the collection in the USA, but I was grateful to be able to produce even one of the garments no matter where in the world it happened. I was so excited when people started ordering the jackets and sending us photos of them wearing it.

**A Production Piece**

The final iteration of the only garment from the 5-piece collection we had produced, a camo jacket.

**Back View**

The camo jacket viewed from the back, with a crazy graphic on display.

When I started House of Caswell at the beginning of this year, I actually knew already that it was going to be a terrible year to start a new brand, and I’ve been proven right. I’ve heard the words “unprecedented times” thrown around again this year more than any year since 2020, in regards to tariffs and trade, wars and violence, and natural disasters. I can see that I have terrible timing when it comes to trying to make my dreams come true, but I have the armor of experience now.

Because of what I went through in 2020 with what was supposed to be the first Berried Alive cut-and-sew collection, I know how to manage my expectations now. I know unprecedented times can and will happen without any warning, and I truly know that there isn’t a “right” time to start a business. Starting a new business is hard and scary no matter what year it is, and it’s important to be able to accept things as they are and make adjustments as necessary. I have a now-or-never mentality now because of what I went through in 2020, and I know I’d never forgive myself if I allowed it to be never.

I’ve had to choose some new fabrics for the House of Caswell collection because my first choices were either prohibitively expensive now due to tariffs, or unavailable altogether because of the trade situation. I completely re-designed my hoodie from a French Terry hoodie to a satin one because the cost of French Terry increased so much I couldn’t justify it. But the good news is, the satin hoodie looks so much more luxe and is way more unique than the French Terry version would have been. I’ve learned to not only accept the limitations but make the most of them, and now I can pivot like a champion. I’m not letting the word ‘almost’ feel hopeless this time.

Unprecedented Times

Being in Business Means Learning to Fix Your Mistakes

A Circular Path to Fashion