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  • Journey of creative broken heart.
  • Galina Gegenava

Journey of creative broken heart.

About a month ago I had someone call me over the phone, asking if I still have marijuana print face masks for sale. He had one I made, but lost it, and he loved that mask so much. It was given to him by his friend, Kaylah former groomer, to whom I gifted a few masks last year. 

This request for masks happened a week before Black Friday and I did not have them in stock pre made. Ok, I’ll make you a new mask, but only if you order 4 or more. I have to drop jewelry production and clear the tables and reset my art studio into sewing mode. He ordered 4 and one more with flowers for his girlfriend. Meanwhile I was fighting thoughts that I must be behind a jewelry bench, I completed his order and then I had more people reaching out for more masks. And I got stuck behind sewing machines instead of a jewelry bench. 

I’m not going to lie, sitting behind sewing machines  making masks was boring as hell and I decided to entertain my creative spirit with a few other sewing projects in between masks assembly. I made a few bandanas for Junior (my rescue pit bull puppy), then why not add them to the store? He gets so many compliments, might as well sell them. Even though my audience comes to see my content related to the jewelry, few have dogs and Junior sold his first banana last week. 

I work a lot, even now on Sunday, with most of my laundry done, I’m typing in my bed, surrounded by my dogs and plants on this blog post. 

I don’t spend money on clothing unless I really need it, I only get a new accessory if I truly need one. I don’t dream of a new pair of shoes unless the one I have is giving up on me from daily power walking around Downtown.

Every dollar is going to the Creative house of Galina. 

And since I’m still behind the sewing machine, I might need to cheer myself up with a new bag that I can not spend money on, but have everything to make one. The type of bag that can fit lots of shit of a grown woman, not like a computer, but you know - wallet, notebook, cosmetic bag with lots of shit no one needs, hand sanitizer, dog treats #dogmomforlife

Well, I made a bag for myself, and then you know what? I got so many compliments I added to the store . I made a new sample, took the pictures, edited them, created a new item in an online store, wrote a new email for my email list audience and made it available for someone like me who knows the meaning of “fancy/casual” like this weed or money bag

And the money bag got inspired by the current grind for affirmation and reminder of what I’m doing in life - making my dreams reality. 

More time I spend behind the sewing machine, the more I start thinking about my childhood. My family was a little bit fucked up, but very talented. Mother was an amazing self taught seamstress, who learned how to sew from her older sister, who went to school and also a seamstress. My cousin, my aunt's daughter, also went to school and became a seamstress. On a daily basis I was raised in conversations about textiles, fashion,  and how to finish pocket or install zippers, conversations about different sewing machines and new treads or needles. 

I made my first skirt at the age of 5. Women in my family were very talented, but not self officiant from sewing knowledge. My aunt or cousin had other full time jobs, sometimes they would take custom orders locally but never would turn into a full Time family business. Fucking Russia, work 8-5, be like everyone else and only richest can have a business. 

Growing up in poverty, my dream after high school was to break that cycle and become a designer. I have been dressing myself since the age of 5. My plan after school was to attend a sewing academy. I wanted to learn pattern making techniques and my life would be complete. 

To enroll into the sewing academy I had to pass a basic test, part of it was silly things like sewing the button ( as my portfolio I had 10 clothing items with me I made by the age of 15), just answer a few questions including rainbow colors and pass a test on Ukrainian. 

History time … In early 1990 Ukraine left the USSR and took Russian speaking peninsula Crimea under their regulation, overnight all the Russian tv channels were canceled. News, store signs, even the Russian Fleet have to move boats to the side for Ukrainian bullshit. 

And here I’m - Russian kid, staring at the test on Ukrainian, obviously I will not pass the fucking test, I spoke Russian all of my life, when to Russian speaking school with French as a second language. 

I failed Ukrainian test, later I got to find out my application was denied for 3 reasons - I did not sew in the button properly (WTF) 

I did not answer rainbow colors properly ( fucking lie, what kid does not know rainbow colors? how Tha fuck is that even possible ) and last reason I was told I must take Ukrainian language classes and try to re-apply next year. 

My life ended on that day, well that is what teenager Galina was thinking at the time. I was robbed of my dream of becoming a designer. At that time my parents was separated, no one give a fuck in my family that I was not accepted to sewing academy and my dream was crushed. I had no idea what I could do next. Father left my mother when I was 12, my mother was not capable of helping me to figure out next steps. We barely had any food on the table and my soviet union mother could not even pay attention to what was happening in the lives of her kids. Recently she told me she doesn't even remember why I was not accepted to school and that I was heartbroken because of it.

That time I was so mad, how??? How ??? out of all people I was not accepted to the school to fulfill my dream. 

After that, I never wanted to sit behind a sewing machine, my hands got paralyzed, my dream was stolen. That school was my only way to get into the sewing world. My mother barely could feed my brother and I,  and broke ass family had nothing to bribe the teachers to accept me to school (which was so common that days, they know I was way ahead of all students and hopped my family comes back begging with money). 

I had no idea what I should do or whom to ask for help. 

I wanted to intern at the local small sewing factory, but they needed someone right after the sewing academy who knows how to use industrial machines.

I ran away from home ….at the age of almost 17 and never looked back… that story I will save for the next chapter of Creative Galina book - Journey of my inner child dream. 

And here I’m, in my art studio with 3 sewing machines - What is stopping me now to heal my child's broken heart and restore what was stolen from me? Can I heal my childhood trauma and become clothing designer now at the age of 43, should I focus on continuing building my jewelry collection? Why am I so talented but yet not complete????? 

“A jack of all trades is a master of none, but oftentimes better than a master of one.” 

Where do I start and what should I do? All I’m missing is pattern making knowledge, the rest of apparel assembly I know with my eyes closed. 

I found a local sewing school and just today registered for Pattern making class. 

While I’ll be waiting for 2022 pattern making class, I will be playing with sewing machine and adding simple items like accessories, bags, dogs bandanas, cute zipper clutch bags, detachable faux fur collars for cold season and many other accessories that will bring joy in daily use and will stand out with unique fun textile in small production up on order.  

I feel like this is my time to stand up and take back what was stolen from my childhood dream!

And I’m beyond excited to share with you new journey of my creative heart and share new collection 

Creative Galina Accessories

Animal print Faux Fur Collar and fingerless hands warmer.

 

Handmade by me in the Creative house of Galina. 

  • Galina Gegenava

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