Unless I somehow skyrocket to design superstardom and get adulation for my genius, this past weekend will be the only time in the near future I get to hobnob with bigwigs from all over the counry.
This year’s Design Ranch was held at Camp Waldemar, which is a camp for rich girls. Very rich girls. Imagine if you will:
Rich girl: Mother, can I go to Camp Waldemar?
Mother: Well, honey, that sounds nice, but it costs $15,000 a summer to attend.
Rich girl: But moTHER! Monique’s mother said that SHE could go.
Mother: Honey, there’s a 15 year waiting list to be able to go.
Rich girl: I HATE YOU!!!!
That was my first reaction to what it might be like at the camp. But then it’s hard to harbor any ill-feelings towards such a magnificant place. It was impossible to maintain any level of stress while laying in a hammock next to the Guadalupe River. Throw in a few art workshops, food prepared by a four-star chef (he’s on staff), a few kayaks, live music everynight and a few kegs and you have yourself a good ole time.
It was also nice to such uber-successful designers shed any god-like stature and ask if the seat at your breakfast table is open. No ego, no competition, no showboating, well except for one guy. I got to screenprint with the guys who do all the concert posters for Modest Mouse, Interpol and whoever else is trendy. I was sketching out my idea for a Doozie (a koozie that holds two beers) with the principles of well-respected studios. It was satisfying to see people that were successful in design and did it by dictating what they wanted to do.
As nice as it was to relax and get pampered (well not the bunk beds intended for 14 year old girls, that sucked ass), this event helped me realize that I have some work to do in order to get to where I want to be in life.