Speak with enough female entrepreneurs and you might just get inspired to quit your corporate job of eight years, believing that you too can start something of your own.
That is, at least, what happened to me.
I started L’étude to discover the faces and names behind independent brands and to use that discovery to motivate my own purchases, and fashion investments, if you will.
From there, it grew legs that looked something like an interview / biographical series aimed at inspiring people from often marginalized groups to start something of their own. A side hustle. A creative practice. Whatever it is that makes you recognize your capabilities, reconnect to your creativity, and feel closer to yourself.
Looking back, I now realize I was included, if not occasionally the sole member, of the “you” in that mission statement.
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I moved to Los Angeles in 2015, a week after graduating college, for an internship at the very same place I bought my own prom dresses: BCBGMaxAzria. In less than a year, I became Max Azria’s assistant. Wild times, to say the least.
As a serial monogamist with zero commitment issues, I decided I would spend the rest of my career at BCBG, working up the ranks to one day sit on whatever the golden throne of the C-suite looked like.
Instead, Max left the company and took me with him.
We hustled together for a year or so before I realized I needed a bit more security, and perhaps an HR department. Love to Max, we got through a lot together, but boundaries were basically nonexistent. Zero time off and so much cigarette smoking in the office that I would wake up with black nostrils. (Note: I was not the one smoking, usually. Max went through over a pack a day and wouldn’t let me open my windows because the street was too loud.)
Then, I got an opportunity to work for another entrepreneur who founded and led an on-demand beauty app around the time services like Glamsquad and Priv were taking off. She was also heavily involved in fashion partnerships and content creation, so, for me, it felt something close to perfect.
Looking back, it was not. But it shaped me in more ways than I’ll probably ever have the words to express because they are, mostly, subconscious. She opened my eyes to the idea that I could build something of my own. A dream I’d always had but lacked the confidence to execute.
I started working for her mid-July, and by September we were spending over thirty codependent days traveling together to hit every fashion week back to back. NYC to London to Milan to Paris, back to London, back to NYC. It was pure chaos and stress and overwhelm and I cried at least six times, but I would never give it up.
Again, though, the tears eventually led me to reach for some more stability.
I got the opportunity to work for the CEO of the world’s largest music company. They DM’d me on LinkedIn and I assumed it was spam. (Never underestimate the power of LinkedIn. Just this year I got a DM to interview for a dream job in Paris. I wasn’t offered the job in the end, but that’s not the point.)
That was over eight years ago.
During that time, I studied for my Master’s at Northwestern, got promoted to a marketing role, and eventually received my crown as “Marketing Director.” The relationship between job titles and corporate environments is something to be studied.
Eventually, though, a question began surfacing: is this the environment I want to spend my life in?
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And as a Marketing Director, I simultaneously started L’étude, then called C’est Cool.
And now you’re mostly brought up to speed.
I started reaching out to founders, coincidentally many around my age and female, and writing about their brands and stories. Alongside the utmost admiration I was feeling came envy. Every single founder was doing work that lit them up in a way you couldn’t quite describe but could see very clearly on their faces. A look I wanted.
One after another, they told me how they got there. And one after another, I filed it away and went back to my corporate office.
At some point I realized I was asking slightly selfish questions in slightly different ways: How did you get the courage to leave? What made you decide the security wasn’t worth it anymore? What did it feel like on the other side?
It really smacked me in the face this May when I spoke with Sofia Ortiz about El Quadrado, the space she built in Madrid. She told me something along the lines of: she knew that no matter where she ended up, she couldn’t keep living her life miserable at a job she didn’t love.
No grand plan. No safety net. Just the clarity that staying had become the greater risk.
Without her knowing much of anything about my professional background, I felt targeted. And slowly, then with more and more confidence, I knew a big change in my life was imminent.
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About thirty days ago, I said goodbye to my office for the very last time after more than eight years.
I have no title. I have no salary or 401(k) contributions. But I have a community and aspirations and passion. I have a publication that spent the last year showing me, through every story I published, that the life I was waiting for permission to build was actually possible.
Sofia gave me courage. And Mariana, and Alex, and every other woman whose story I had the privilege of learning. They inadvertently held my hand along the way, and I hope there will be people who can one day say L’étude did the same for them.
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A few exciting notes about what comes next.
We’re entering a new era, with newfound time and freedom to have more conversations, follow more curiosities, and get more creative. I’m also not leaving marketing behind, but developing my own independent marketing practice in tandem. Perhaps I’ll share more here later.
For now, if you’re new here, welcome. L’étude is where I obsess over art, design, entrepreneurship, and the people behind all of it. If you’ve been here: thank you for giving me the encouragement to build it.
I spent the last year studying people who trust in themselves. Now we find out what happens when I do the same.
Speak very soon!
Kelly