It’s my birthday this month, which is a complicated time of year to have a birthday. Growing up, mine always landed on the first day of school, or close enough to it, so I never got a great elementary-school birthday, and I never got the glorious summer birthday either. 

This year, on my actual birthday, I’ll be delivering my son to college in Portland, Oregon, which is beautiful, but will presumably involve more dorm rooms, boxes, and IKEA than birthday cake.

So, in the interest of taking a moment to celebrate myself: apparently, I’m having a moment.

The Photoshoot That Started It All

This photo shoot was inspired by an editorial fashion shoot I saw, and my Director of Marketing, Carly Eagle, loved the idea of doing something similar. She and I love to be silly, have fun and are always looking for a reason to “play” and document it! I was a theater kid in high school. I won Best Actress more times than I can probably admit without sounding obnoxious, and I even won Best Dressed. I used to care a lot about fashion, and lately I’ve started caring about it again. It has been surprisingly revelatory.

People have noticed. I’ve had people say, “You’re showing up in such a different way.” “Who is your new marketing director?” “Why do you seem so different?”

Well, I’m not different. I just spent the last fifteen years with my nose to the grindstone.

Fifteen Years of Building

I wanted to build a firm. I wanted to create projects I was genuinely proud of. I wanted to build a team I could trust. I wanted to raise my children and stay married, which, frankly, was not always easy. And somewhere in all of that, taking care of myself and having fun moved pretty far down the list. I cared about my business. A lot. I loved running a business. I still do.

But part of what has changed for me is that I realized time was passing. My kids were growing up and getting ready to go to college. For a lot of years, I was focused on building and building and building, holding on tightly to what I had internally: my family, my kids, my work. But as their attention naturally began to extend outward into their own lives, so did mine.

At some point, I looked around and realized: I built the thing.

I have incredible projects under my belt. I have a team I’ve carefully curated, many of whom have been with me for years. I have thirty years in this business and fifteen years of building Amity Worrel & Co. behind me. I have learned a tremendous amount. I have made mistakes. I have taken risks. I have worked really, really hard.

The Work Doesn’t Speak for Itself. Not Entirely.

For years, I thought the work had to speak for itself. And it does speak for itself. But I’ve realized that’s only half the job.

My team has helped me understand that. They work incredibly hard, and so much of what we produce is the result of their heavy lifting: design, client management, decision-making, selections, drawings, project management, and all of the thousands of things that happen behind the scenes to make a project successful. That’s a lesson I’ve come back to again and again, most recently while thinking through what my role actually is on the client-facing side of this business. I owe my team a way of showing up that celebrates all of that work.

It isn’t all about me. But my name is on the door.

So if I can bring attention to my team by being myself, being a little irreverent, having some fun and putting myself out there, then great. And if I get to bring my team with me while I do it, even better. I’ve been lucky enough to do that more and more lately: traveling together, going to shows, seeing new things, meeting people, finding inspiration, and generally getting out into the world together. 

Getting Older, Not Old

There is also something wonderful about getting older in a creative business. You stop worrying quite so much about whether everyone approves. You know what you like. You know what you’re good at. You know what you don’t want. And you finally have enough experience to take a few more risks, because you know you’ll survive if they don’t work. There’s research to back this up, too: creativity doesn’t decline with age so much as it changes shape.

I am getting older. Not old. Older. And I like it.

Back to Boy George

When I was in high school, Boy George was one of my fashion icons. I went through a phase of makeup, crazy hair, big baggy pants, a duster, and black pointy shoes. It was fantastic. People remembered me. I remember telling my mother that I didn’t really care about looking pretty. I wanted to be dramatic. I wanted to make an impression.

Maybe I’m back there again.

Sure, I think I look great. I feel good about myself. But more than that, I like to have fun. I like fashion. I like drama. I like making an entrance. I like getting a little attention. And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. 

In fact, I think there is something powerful about finally allowing the outside to look a little more like the inside.

The Theater Kid Was Always in There

The truth is, this is who I’ve always been: the theater kid, the funny girl, the person who would rather make an impression than blend in, the person who loves beautiful things, traveling, getting dressed up, and seeing what happens when you put unexpected things together.

I just got very busy for a while. 

Now I’m making room for that person again. And I’m bringing my business with me.

Turning It Outward

The work is still the work. The standards are still the standards. But after thirty years, I’m ready to turn all of that creativity outward: to share it, celebrate it, travel with it, talk about it, and let more people see what we’ve built.

Apparently, I’m having a moment. 

And I’m having a pretty good time with it.