During my college years I held odd jobs. For example one semester I substuted for the New Hanover Co. public school system which was fun. Every day was a different classroom situation, like a first day on the job every day. Being a surfer helped me connect with the students, so for the most part I was warmly received. The only time I hit a bump in the classroom was when I subbed for an 8th grade math class for three consecutive days. The teacher left a long lesson plan about fractions, and being a Liberal Arts person, I was a little stumped on how to teach the class. "Don't worry," said one girl, "Ms. Williams figures subs are a joke anyway." That was all the motivation I needed to take the lessons home and brush up on fractions. On day two I had the class caught up with time to spare, so, we went outside to play dodgeball on day three. A joke my ass!
One summer I cleaned pools for a bunch of vacation places on Pleasure Island. That job really tried my physical endurance. I cleaned 12 pools a day five days a week and four pools on Saturday. Lifting and carrying the cleaning equipment in and out of the pool area built my physique up like a lean mean MMA fighter. I was also as tan and blond as Malibu Barbie. Cleaning pools at the beach meant I could go surfing during my lunch break, and I could take lunch whenever the winds and tides were right, and I cleaned pools near all the good surf spots on Pleasure Island, so, when I took my lunch I knew just were to go. The bad thing about cleaning pools at beach resort places was that people love to go to the beach then rinse themselves off in the pool. Because if this, I was forever vacuuming what amounted to a half acre of sand from every damn pool, every damn day I worked! Backwashing became my biggest ally.
The truth was, that summer I made $8 an hour and I was well worth the low pay, because even though I cleaned pools for awhile when I lived in Newport Beach CA., I knew nothing about the chemical balance it took to keep a pool clear. Once the company I worked for opened a new account and sent me over to clean their fresh newly built pool. I fogged it up within ten minutes. It took days to get the chemicals in balance and clear the fog. The company never sent me to another new account again. But the most memorable thing about that summer was when I lost my $5000. tennis bracelet while scrubbing the sides of one of the pools. The value of that loss was more then I made all summer.
Flashback: That 5 carat tennis bracelet wasn't the first piece of expensive jewelry I had lost or broken. In fact I was in the habit of losing lots of diamonds over the years of my marriage to Mark, especially earrings while surfing. I'd forget to take them out before paddling out. Other jewelry I had broken because I'm so hard on dainty things. But Mark always replaced the losses with more diamonds. It was like he wanted his women flashy and was willing to spend a lot of money on it. This was his way in everything. He never went cheep, always high dollar. Like when he got addicted to Ebay and rock & roll autographs, and when he decided to play the guitar. He spent thousands buying six or seven guitars, with some being special editions! He also spent a lot on recording equipment and wah-wah pedals. Everything was high dollar, and for him things became a very expensive habit. But here's the dark side as I saw it, Mark never considered me as a viable contributor to the household finances. To him the money Hot Wax was bring in was all from his doing, consequently I had very little say in all the money he was spending to have the best of everything his heart desired. My roll as the dutiful wife and mother was to be quiet, look pretty, and enjoy all the trips and flash. Honestly, that might sound great for some women but not for an independent tomboy like myself. I was never born the Princess type (though I did like the trips). I wanted to feel like I was an important family decision maker and value to Hot Wax, and therefore our income was earned equally. But that wasn't the case, especially when Hot Wax gave us an income over 6 figures. Suddenly Hot Wax, and all control of the money, was entirely Mark's. This became real evident in the divorce when Mark told everyone in the courtroom I didn't deserve a thing.
After the divorce I gave most of my diamond jewelry to Shaun and Sarah. Others I lost. When I realized the tennis bracelet was gone for good I hit a milestone. It was the final end of the Mark glitz years, (although I still have a 2 carat ring and 1 carat diamond C had put in a custom-made, very sturdy bracelet, which I can't break. I save these diamonds also for my kids.) So, even though the bracelet loss was expensive, I let it go. Now I don't worry about losing things in the surf or through hard work. Now my flash is from me and my inner being, and it is very modest and simple....well, except when it comes to cars.
After graduating from UNCW with a Fine Arts degree I got a job in retail...again. After all, artists always need a day job right? I started working at Jos. A. Bank which ended up being a low pay, extremely demanding, and non-greatfull work environment. And when I was moved up to Assistant Manager the young guy who wanted the job (while he was attending the business school at UNCW) decided he didn't like me. "This place ran perfectly fine before you got here so you don't need to rock the boat by bossing people around." He promptly told me, and he challenged me at every turn. I knew the guy was stealing and after a year I decided I had had enough of his attitude which was encouraged by the rest of the 'boy's club' I worked with, so I decided I'd put my 20 years of retail experience to work and expose his thieving ways for all to see. It didn't take me long to reveal his mathematical and backdoor methods whereupon he was promptly fired and lost his future internship with Merrill Lynch. Then I quit.
The concept of Jos. A. Bank intrigued me to the point that I decided to start up a retail store with the same concept, but for women. I still had capital from Hot Wax and people around me who I believed would work well as a team. C had been a paralegal for nine years for a criminal attorney and was ready for a change, but didn't know how to make one. I knew she had the skills to be a perfect business manager and take care of all the book and computer needs. As far as retail experience, I knew I could teach her everything she needed to know. M had worked for Footlocker for ten years and knew the ins-and-outs of corporate retail. I knew she'd make a good floor manager. After our first meeting where we set out the format we bought tickets to attend the Magic trade show in Los Vegas. A trade show I'd been wanting to attend for years.
A week before the Magic show I, for some reason, thought it would be a good idea to ride my mountain bike after a few drinks. Surprisingly, I didn't make it over a small hill in the woods behind my house and consequently broke my ankle. Memo: never drink and ride.
The same orthopedic that put a plate and screws in my wrist from my dirt bike incident, and who repaired my snowboarding accident injury in 2007, (a stretched Ulnar Collateral Ligament; Anterior Band. A surgery which I was awake for because I ate one pizza roll 30 minutes before I was to go under anesthesia...my bad. It was cool looking at the open anatomy of my elbow though. This was the surgery however that killed my 40 year softball career.), anyway, the same orthopedic promptly screwed another plate and six screws in my ankle. Then he stapled my skin together. He could not put my ankle in a cast so I had to wear a boot. During the Magic show C and M had a good time pushing me and my boot around in a wheelchair with reckless abandonment. Venders found it amusing and because of that we were able to pick up fashion lines that otherwise would never have talk to a new business like us. By the end of the show we were buying suits and other clothing from designers living in Denmark, Italy, Canada, London, and other places around the world. Corporate Skirts was going to bring international fashion forward business wear to the small North Carolina town of Wilmington. It was very cool.
Upon our return, C, M, and I in my boot, started the repair and remodeling of the 1700 sq. ft. of retail space. It took three months to turn the space from a dance bar into a classy women's business clothing boutique. Once again I played the General Contractor using the guys who built my house, and the three of us gals did whatever work we could in between to save time and money.
When we finally opened the doors we were greeted with positive responces. We were featured in two local magazines which helped us advertise and I was even given a fashion makeover writing job in one of them. Before the year was over M got a higher paying job (she was the only one getting a paycheck) and moved on leaving C and I to continue without her, which was fine because C had learned the tricks of the retail trade very quickly and was doing everything M could do and more therefore, M had become too expensive to keep anyway. With her gone we had more money to pay our tailor, the same tailor who did alterations for Jos. A. Bank. We had built a tailoring room in the back of the store so we could custom fit the business suits we sold to women like Jos. A. Bank did for men. It was a good concept for female bankers, attorneys, and any other profession where women needed to wear a suit. It was what set Corporate Skirts apart from other boutiques. We were really on to something, and 2008 proved to be very exciting!
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