Reinvention
Kim Jones was interviewed in MEGA magazine (July 2023 edition), pp. 120
Reinvention to me is taking something pure and changing it until it’s almost unrecognizable, but it’s still true to its core. And that manifests creatively, obviously, through a lot of experimentation and a lot of curiosity. I find a lot of comfort in change. I find a lot of comfort in exploration. I don’t like being stagnant. It doesn’t sit right with me.
I fell in love with computers (sounds bad, eh?) in my early teens and assumed that the love would follow me into my thirties. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate computers or the tech space. It's just that it doesn't give me the same vibes it used to when I was younger. I loved computers because they allowed me to tinker and experiment, to get messy and whatnot. I suppose when you're in your teens, there's not really a lot to lose. Your bills are being paid for, and you have no single reason to worry. But as you get older, you start being careful, less reckless, and less willing to tinker or experiment because as they say, if you fuck around, you will surely find out. While I loved computers, I also loved playing around with clay, making pots, cups, and any other objects I could create. I would often assist my mother, acting as her clumsy assistant, when she was making clothes. I also observed how she interacted with clients, and I used to secretly look at the sketches she made during her time in fashion school. Nigeria didn't have easy access to fashion magazines at that time, so she somehow managed to acquire used ones. While she was working, I would leaf through those magazines. Now, I see hip-hop artists wearing bulletproof vests as fashion items, and it reminds me of watching my mom make them (without the Kevlar, of course) for law enforcement over two decades ago. I would often think to myself, ‘If then was now, we could have made a ton of money.’ In junior high school, our home economics exam required us to create tie and dye fabric and then use needle and thread to make a pair of shorts. Since I had a mother who made clothes, I had her cut the pattern for me after I had dyed the fabric. I then sewed it together in class, just like the other students. I submitted my project and moved on to senior high school. However, home economics was no longer a subject in senior high. Nonetheless, I had developed a passion for sewing with needle and thread. It became my source of calm. I would ask my mom to cut a pattern for me, which I would put in my school bag. During school breaks, I would continue working on a new pair of shorts using the fabric I had dyed. 🎒
But my other classmates laughed, wondering why I was still working on that. They believed that needles and knitting were activities only for girls. It's not often openly expressed, but among themselves, kids can be quite vicious. The teasing continued for days, and eventually, I gave in. I took the unfinished shorts home and never returned to sewing again. I didn’t tell mom why I had lost interest. Luckily for me, my mom has always been supportive. It's so fascinating how people can shoot something down right before it takes shape, and somehow we manage to let them. It reminds me of what Tyler Perry said about an incident that involved his mother. After witnessing his struggles to get his plays shown, she advised him to give up. It wasn't that his mother was cruel; she simply couldn't bear to see him suffer. Instead, he decided to protect his dreams and stopped sharing them with others. He secretly nurtured them because, in the end, only you can truly understand the path you're taking. And those who don't understand your dream don't hate you; they simply cannot bear to see you suffer for something that hasn't been attempted or proven. If it were a safe and certain path, nobody would warn you against going down it. But since they don't know what the possible outcomes might be, they would probably advise you not to take that route. So, young me left the "arts" for science. However, I kept being drawn back in that direction. When the world fell apart around me, cinema, music, art galleries, and thrift shops became my safe haven. It was as if I finally gave my inner child what it had always yearned for. Whenever I do that, I feel rejuvenated and ready to face the world again. Do I have regrets? Not really. I actually appreciate the trajectory of my life at the moment—the good, the bad, and the ugly. Anytime that voice says "maybe you shouldn't pursue that," when I want to experiment I find myself thinking, 'Not again' and then go out and do the thing. I am currently and probably will forever be in an experimental phase, constantly trying out different things and figuring out what works for me and resonates with my inner child. 📽️
So when I came across this interview that Kim Jones did in MEGA magazine, I could relate. To demonstrate the concept of reinvention, she created a series of photographs that served as retrospectives of herself, showcasing how she has changed over the years. She is so excited for what she’ll become in the next decade and can’t wait to witness that transformation. She goes on to add that, “knowledge compounds. Experience compounds. That is why I love getting older. My god, I would have loved to be who I am inside like 10 years ago, but it doesn’t work like that.” I, too, just like her, am curious about the direction that embracing the yearnings of that child within me will lead me. However, I intend to approach it with playfulness, irreverence, love, and a lot of mischief. It was only a year or so ago that I finally managed to tell myself that I love me. I said it out loud to myself. I had never told myself that because I thought it would either come off as narcissistic or simply appear crazy, but when I finally did, I experienced intense delight. Because I had grown up thinking that you only told others you loved them but not tell yourself you love you. It’s not knowing you love yourself but actually telling yourself that you love you the way you tell your partner you loved them. With that same level of genuineness and sensitivity. When I verbalized it, I knew I had made peace with myself. I had made peace with the past, with all the errors and blunders. I pray to say it more often to myself because when you constantly dwell on the 'coulda, woulda, shouldas,' it becomes difficult to love oneself the way one truly should. At the risk of sounding like a motivational speaker, I would say to speak kind words to the child you once were. Forgive yourself for any perceived wrongs you think you have committed against yourself. Embrace that child and reassure him or her that it's okay, that it's safe, and that he or she can come out to play. Pursue the things you have always wanted to do, even if they make no sense to anyone else. Don't go to the grave with your song still in your belly. Sing! 🧑🏾🎤
Thanks for reading. If there's anything you'd like to chat about, or if you have any questions, feel free to shoot me an email. I'd love to hear from you. :)