Naturally Tan Page 10

  The truth is, I was starting to feel depressed, which I had never felt before. I had been blue, but this was different. I felt like my life revolved around work only. I didn’t want to get out of bed. I was even miserable with my husband, which was a clear indication that something was terribly wrong. He’s always able to cheer me up and bring me so much joy.

  Let me say this: My depression occurred in the winter, and Utah is really bleak in January. It’s cold and it’s grey and it’s overcast. That really compounded the issue.

  Yet within a few months of juggling three businesses, I started to feel like I couldn’t see a way out of it. My depression worsened, and I began to feel suicidal. Every day on my drive to or from work, I would start to fantasize about driving into oncoming traffic. I cried in my car every day, thinking I just wanted to take the easy way out.

  I felt like I was drowning. I didn’t want to leave a financial burden for me and for Rob. I didn’t want to fail, and I didn’t want to be a failure in his eyes. I thought, If I can’t turn this around, I’m going to have a heart attack. I also wondered, If this fails, what will I do with the rest of my life? This is all I know how to do.

  For a month, all I wanted was to end it.

  Every day, Rob asked me how I was doing, and I told him I was fine. But then I’d cry really hard, which was very out of character for me. He struggled with it. He saw me cry every day, and he cried with me, too. He would say, “You don’t have to do any of this. You can quit, and it will be fine.” He knew that I was feeling really suicidal, and he wanted to help me out of it. On one of the worst days, I was making the fifteen-minute drive home in my Subaru Outback, when I called him from the car, saying, “I want to drive off this bridge, and I need you to talk me out of it.” And he did. He was at work, and he stopped what he was doing to talk to me. I pulled over on the side of the road, and he calmed me down.

  I love that boy.

  When we were back home, he said, “Just walk away.”

  And I said, “I love you, but that’s not how life works. I’ve got employees. I’m responsible for people’s lives. I can’t just walk away.”

  I felt like everything—including my dignity and respect—was on the line. I had gone through so many years of trying to prove myself. We had successful people in my family, but they were always middle-of-the-road successful. I love my family, but we weren’t go-getters as much as we could have been. I didn’t want my family to think, He moved to America to achieve the American dream, and within a few years, he quit when it got tough.

  I felt so much self-imposed pressure to prove myself and to prove that I wasn’t a failure. I had become the laughingstock of my family because I’d quit every job I ever had. But that was different.

  I was also afraid to quit because I knew I didn’t want to stay at home every day, because I would become even more depressed and suicidal with no purpose.

  Yet I would literally kill myself if I continued at that stress level.

  So I made a plan, very quickly, to sell the businesses and retire. I didn’t have tens of millions of dollars, but if I sold the businesses, there was enough to be able to take care of my husband and our future children. And I planned to do consultant work in the future, so I would still have an income.

  I didn’t want to hurt Rachel, as we had become really close, so I talked to her husband first to see if he wanted to become part of the business. I asked him, “If I step out, could you fill my shoes?” He could take on my business role, and a technical designer could handle the design. He had wanted to be a part of the business from the start, so he was super excited.

  Once I knew the business could survive, it was just about the emotional component. It was time to speak to Rachel. I told her that I needed to make a change and to focus on my real life. I wanted to have children. I wanted to pour my love into my family. I said, “Look. I love you, and I don’t want you to think this is a personal thing. I’m not leaving the business because I’m not happy with you. I’m drowning, and I need to focus on myself and my family.”

  She wasn’t angry, but she was really upset. She cried and asked if we could hire more help. She was willing to do whatever it took to keep me. We had built an amazing business and had a great relationship, but I told her that there was nothing we could do to change my mind. I had to choose family.

  At the time, I wasn’t willing to tell her that the pressure made me feel suicidal. I’m usually an open book about many things, but when it came to something so emotionally vulnerable, not even my good friends knew. Looking back, I think, that was nothing to be ashamed of. So many of us go through periods where we feel like we’re drowning and we can’t see the forest for the trees. But I wasn’t willing to share it. Up until this point, I’ve never told her. I didn’t want her to feel any added guilt that the stress from the business was causing me so much anxiety.

  A couple of weeks after I announced I was leaving, I got a call about this job for Netflix.

  When Rachel caught wind of the news, she thought I was leaving the company for this job, and she was incredibly hurt. I tried to explain that yes, the timing seemed very suspicious, but it was just a coincidence and a very fortuitous opportunity. I wanted to cut back, and instead, I took on one of the busiest jobs I’ve had in my life. But it gave me a whole new career path. It was too good to pass up. She felt that I’d lied to her, even when I did my best to explain to her that it wasn’t the case.

  It was hard for our relationship, but I was able to show her that I wasn’t actually necessary anymore, as the business was running perfectly with the team we’d hired and that she and her husband could do it on their own. I was right about that, of course. Rachel Parcell Inc. is more successful than ever, and she and I are still friends to this day.

  Selling those businesses was the best thing I ever did. I hired a broker to help with the process, and he found buyers for all the brands within a year or so. All were sold to private buyers in the apparel industry. I’d like to believe that I’m great at designing and creating a brand. But when it comes to worrying about money and production, I’m a fucking nightmare. The best advice I could ever give anyone is don’t go into mass production unless you handle extreme amounts of pressure really well, because it’s so, so stressful. If you can avoid it, do, unless you have millions of dollars backing it, because if something goes wrong, it will cost a fortune.

  My other advice for those looking to go into business is as follows: Don’t go into business thinking, I’m going to be rich! Don’t go into business for money. Business ownership is the hardest thing. It’s so not the easy ride you might think it is. You don’t get to go on vacation, you don’t get to chill by the pool, and if you do, you’re going to get bogged down by emails and phone calls, which negates any pleasure you enjoyed while away. There’s no such thing as a stress-free business. Getting rich doesn’t just happen for a business owner. It’s the possible payoff after many, many years of years of living a life that most people aren’t willing to.

  Make sure you learn everything you can and do every job you can within the field you’re interested in. Don’t go into a business you don’t know anything about thinking you can hire people who do know. There’s no reason to hire employees (or even a single employee) until you are making real money, if you know your business well.

  Borrow as little money as physically possible. I was raised in a culture where finance and credit were not only frowned upon but actually forbidden. I started my business without credit, which is how I could sell it so profitably; it was all mine. (I took financing for a month, to do mass production, and I won’t go into that because it’s waaaaay too boring, but it wasn’t regular interest-based financing.) If you do things with bank money or other borrowed money, the pressure is unbearable. You also start thinking you can spend all that money. I would never want to be a slave to debt.

  Don’t think you can get a salary within the first couple of years. Get another job or another stream of income, or don’t quit
your job just because you’re starting a business.

  Don’t ever ask an employee to do something you wouldn’t be willing to do yourself. Did I clean the office myself? Yes, I sure did. Your employees aren’t your servants; they’re your employees. Treat them well, and they’ll work hard for you because they respect you. Don’t be that fuckwit boss who makes the employees’ lives hell. There’s nothing strong and powerful about that. If you do that, you’re just a tool.

  Negativity in the office spreads like wildfire. If you see it, get rid of it. Don’t be afraid to drop somebody if it seems like they’ll spread negativity throughout your team. That team is precious and will encourage your company’s success. You can’t risk that by keeping a negative Nancy.

  Do not treat your employees like your friends. They don’t have to follow you on social media, and you don’t have to follow them. Today, my former employees are my friends, but back when they worked for me, they were not. They were employees, and I respected them as such. Be friendly and cordial and a great colleague, but that is all. There is no reason to treat employees like friends, because when it comes down to teaching or training or discipline—or even getting rid of them—you’ll find it much more difficult. I love a boundary—with friends, with family, and especially with the people who work for me.

  On day one of each person’s employment, we would have a conversation called the “don’t be a bitch talk.” Here is how it goes.

  THE ART OF NOT BEING A BITCH AT WORK

  I know that I can be the biggest bitch at times, so these rules are coming from a real place of knowledge. When it comes to being a bitch, I am informed. As a seasoned bitch, I know the pitfalls and also how to rein it in.

  •    Realize you are not in competition with everybody at your workplace.

  •    Realize that the success of your colleagues does not mean you’re at risk of not achieving your goals.

  •    Do not talk about your colleagues with other colleagues, because negativity spreads like wildfire.

  •    If you’re working at one of my offices and you dare to bitch about a colleague so you can one-up them, know wholeheartedly that the person you’re bitching about will be praised, and you, the bitching person, will be fired.

  •    If you’re bitching about people to other people, you are the problem.

  •    If you truly don’t appreciate something that’s happening with a colleague, speak to them privately, diplomatically, and air your grievances on a professional—but not a personal—basis.

  I love women, and I’m surrounded by them. In fact, most of the people in my life are women. Women are the people that have molded who I am. However, almost every woman I know has talked about equality in the workplace, about women supporting women, and about women championing other women. But I’ve also seen that women knock each other down and say mean things about other women more than I’ve ever seen from my male counterparts.

  Women: Stop knocking each other down, and let’s start building each other up. Men are already there to stomp on you; the last thing we need is for women to join in on the act.

  PSA: LITTLE BLACK SOMETHING

  I feel jealous that women have so many different options. You can wear jeans, dresses, skirts … if you have a whole box of crayons, why would you choose only two colours?

  Drag isn’t for me, personally. I think it’s wonderful for people who want to do it, and I love a good drag show. It’s just not my bag to dress in drag. Still, I have worn many a dress in my lifetime. Let me explain.

  For the first couple of years at Kingdom & State, my very first business, I had no money for fit models, but I myself was a women’s wear size medium. I knew where a dress should fall to be appropriate for a woman, and so I was the fit model for every dress, skirt, and swimsuit for the first few years in business. I would either gain or lose weight to make sure my waist and hips were the correct measurement for a size-medium woman. No joke. I would obsess over it for the run-up to sampling season and managed to get into shape each time. (See, I really did do the most to make the business work. You have to do some crazy shit if you really want to make your dreams come to life.)

  A dress is an appropriate choice for any occasion and can look just as cool and sexy as jeans or a skirt. People say women shouldn’t have to wear dresses, and I completely agree with that. But I do think it looks great for almost every situation, if a dress is something you gravitate toward.

  For the workplace, wear what’s appropriate for your style; just don’t make it overly sexual. The office isn’t the place to make bold, sexy fashion statements. I’m not trying to dim your shine, boo, but people at your corporate office don’t need all your shine right now. They’ve got targets to reach.

  I like the wisdom that every woman should have a little black dress that works for every occasion. But the idea that it has to be a dress is an old-fashioned notion. Maybe it’s a pair of great-fitting black pants and a black top you can wear to a fancy occasion with your footwear. The idea is to have a little black something, where you know you can put it on and it won’t take any effort. You can run into your closet, throw it on in two seconds, and still look stylish and chic as fuck.

  JEWELLERY

  One day, Rob and I were on vacation in Vegas when I received a call from Cameron, a guy I hardly knew. He was a talent manager who was connected to me through a friend of a friend. “Are you available within the next hour?” he asked. “I want you to Skype with somebody from Netflix.”

  Again, I barely knew this guy. And I was on vacation. Obviously, I was not doing the call. Also, I was literally about to retire and had zero interest in pursuing further work, especially in show business.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “It will only take an hour. They just want to talk to you, to see if you could be right for this show.”

  “An hour?” I replied. “I’m on vacation with my husband. I really don’t think this is for me, but thanks.”

  Then he asked me if I had ever seen Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. I had seen the British version, but not the American version. Still, I had no interest in doing this call. I knew I’d never get the job, as I’d never auditioned for anything in entertainment before, and I didn’t want to waste my vacation time talking to someone who would inevitably tell me I wasn’t right for the role.

  My husband was like, “It’s only a call! Go for it!” And so, he convinced me to do it. Yes, you can all go ahead and thank Rob France right now.

  I begrudgingly left the mall where I was strolling around at Caesars Palace and went back to the hotel room. I was staying at the Paris, which is an older hotel that I like because it feels a bit like Grandma’s house. The rooms aren’t cool and modern; they’re cozy. I’m an old grandma who likes going to bed by ten, and that is what suits me. This particular room was more like WASPy Grandma’s house, where even though Grandma’s rich, she hasn’t redecorated since the 1940s, and she hates having kids around, so there really aren’t any of them rattling around the halls. Yes, please.

  I dialed into the call, but as soon as the casting director saw the room—beige chintz wallpaper with blue and white flowers, and paisley carpet—he was like, “Oh no. You’re going to have to go somewhere else.” I thought Grandma’s house was nice, but he did not agree. “This is supposed to be cool,” he said. “We’re recording this interview to show to Netflix. Can you speak to management? Can you tell them this call is an audition and to put you somewhere else?”

  That sounded like the douchiest thing to say to the hotel manager. So before I spoke to them, I decided to try out the spa. It was cleaner and brighter and more modern, and I hoped it would work. But as soon as the call connected, fucking Enya started playing in the background. Enya!!

  Enya was all, “Whoooo … can … say … where the rooooad goes…”

  And the manager was like, “Nope. This won’t work either.”

  As I left the spa, my husband saw me running around with my
laptop on what was no longer a relaxing vacation. “Forget this, I’m going to tell them to leave me alone!” I told him, because I wanted to go back to the mall and enjoy the rest of my vacation. But Rob was like, “Can you calm down? Let’s go speak to the manager. Just tell them you have a Netflix audition and see what they say.”

  Naturally, he talked to the manager, while I stood there, holding my laptop.

  They agreed to give me a newly renovated conference room to use for an hour. It was white and minimal, with pops of black and red and yellow. It looked more modern and acceptable, and—apparently—cool enough for the interview. I was wearing a striped tee with my black leather moto jacket, so I guess I looked cool enough for the interview?

  The call connected, and within a few minutes of speaking to the casting director, I was like, Gosh, I like this guy! I could tell he really liked me, too. We wound up talking for two hours. It felt super casual. He just wanted to get to know me and my opinions on life. Why did I live in Utah? How was life in America versus life in England? He asked me about my husband. Just a friendly chitchat. It was lovely, and I felt like I could actually become friends with him. That’s how comfortable it was. He said this was the last day of auditions and that they had interviewed a couple thousand people for this role, but that I was his favourite.

  “I don’t believe you! You’re just being nice,” I said, because I truly thought this. He laughed and told me I had obviously never dealt with casting people before, as they aren’t known for being nice. I really didn’t believe him, though. I assumed he was just saying it because I was already pretty set, career-wise, and that he didn’t want to hurt the feelings of someone who wasn’t used to this industry. I now know better; casting directors really aren’t ones for fluffing anyone up unnecessarily.