On July 7th, 2017 — 7 years ago to this day, I registered a business license for my small fashion brand “joy mao,” at San Francisco City Hall.
The gal in the photo had a belly full of butterflies, and no idea what kind of adventure she was about to embark upon!
It’s not an understatement to say that joy mao quite literally began on the floor of my tiny San Francisco apartment.
I worked in advertising at the time, consisting of ~60-70 hour weeks writing emails, making Google Slide presentations, and talking with clients on the phone about their marketing campaigns.
I really didn’t know much about making or selling clothes — just that I loved doing it enough to do it on the floor, in nearly all my spare time. What a relief it was to come home to my sewing machine after a long day of work. What a joy it was to make my way to Oakland at 9am on Saturdays to work on my pattern-making skills at Apparel Arts.
My friends and colleagues could all tell that I had a thing that I really loved doing — most of all my good pal, Melissa Santiago.
Mel and I shared a similar sensibility about clothing — good fabrics, good colors, a special kind of graceful comfort, a sense of humor. We’d dream and scheme about how clothes could be better — more comfortable, more purposeful, more inspiring.
Mel connected me with a compassionate owner of a clothing boutique in the Mission — her name was Marta Fernandez.
Marta had a thoughtful and passionate approach to curating her store, and for whatever reason, took a chance on a gal just making clothes in her spare time.
She started by asking for a few pairs of my pants to sell in her store, which already had me feeling like I was living the dream.
I made the pants, she quickly sold them, and then she asked, “Would you like to make a collection?”
Would I like to make a collection???????
“You’ll need to make a brand,” she said.
Okay…
“Design a collection and make the clothes.”
I could probably figure out how to do that…
And then you can pop-up in the front of the store.”
What does that even mean???
The next few months were a bit of a blur.
In addition to working (more than) full time — I sketched, sourced fabric, made patterns, cut fabric, and sewed up a storm on my domestic Bernina 1080 that I got off eBay — before I really knew what I was doing, or how to do any of it “the right way.” I ended up selling my dining table so that I’d have more floor space to draft and cut.
“You’ll need a brand,” Marta had said.
Another one of my kind and talented colleagues, Greggy Adriano, helped me figure out how to make a brand. He asked me many insightful questions, and not once laughed at me as I scribbled my name over and over again until I had a logo.
Before I knew it, I had a pop-up???
Months had somehow passed in the blink of an eye, and I found myself feeling like I could probably do this forever. Something about the varied aspects of designing and making a collection, developing a brand, and putting my heart out in the world in this direct and tangible way — felt so right.
My beautiful friend Crystal Chou modeled the collection, photographed on the streets outside my apartment by her talented husband, Phillip Cun.
Mel used these images to help me set up my Instagram account, which has grown very gently and organically over the last 7 years — a tender time capsule for this journey that me and my community have been on together.
At this moment in time — 7 years since it all began — it feels as though me and my little brand have arrived at an important turning point. I wanted to look back on how it all started, and let this history guide me in my way forward.
In looking back, one thing has been abundantly clear:
joy mao would not have been born in 2017, or survived until today, without the deep love and support of my friends — Mel, Marta, Greggy, Crystal, Phillip, and so many others who cheered me on, lending both their time and talents to a gal with almost no experience and only the beginnings of dreams.
With everyone’s support, I managed to move to New York, study at Parsons School of Design, work at a bunch of different fashion companies, survive a pandemic, become an artist at The W.O.W. Project, and arrive at today with deeper relationships and more clarity and resolve for my work than I ever thought possible.
This 7-year period has been full of joy, pain, learning, imagining, and healing, and my people have been with me for the whole ride!
Every single thing I’ve made in the last 7 years, every place I’ve worked, every class I took, every class I taught, every person I’ve spent time with — has taught me something. Perhaps I’ll share more specifics in future posts. <3
Through my relationships, I’ve made meaningful strides in honing my voice and my craft, and feel more connected to myself and to my community than ever before.
Looking back at the gal who somehow made her 2017 collection without any of the things she’s learned in the last 7 years — I’m asking:
What can you do now?
I didn't know Greggy helped you with the logo and Philip shot the photos! 🥹