Hand-Me-Downs: finding identity

As I delve into life after University, living abroad, and discovering my truth, I find myself going back to the most open version of myself.

A very small Ainslee that created wildly intense soap operas for her Barbies to star in. I would spend hours creating their stories, dressing them for the part, and falling in love with my own creativity.

I started my path in design because I woke up one day and realized:

“I can’t go another day without creating something.”

This pivotal moment lead me to understand that there are few things more valuable than owning the lost parts of yourself (good and bad). As I work to uncover the hidden parts of myself that I might have tossed out for the sake of ‘practicality’, I realize that a lot of my passion for design came from the act of wanting to tell stories, just as I had with my Barbies.

I come from a large family. Hand me downs were a part.

Suddenly, the jacket my brother wore every day became.

Covered in hand-me-downs still felt like something special.

I became attached to a denim jacket bedazzled with a colorful butterfly on the back of it. There was no way I was giving that up. Tears streamed down my face as I tried to prove it didn’t matter that I couldn’t raise my arms– it was a statement.