Finally! A Bag! (Well, sorta…)
And finally, after months (nay, years) of mistakes and bike rides and babysitting hours, I have a damn bag. https://www.ecknox.com/blog/2018/5/10/chapter-12-finally
All posts tagged: baby gear
“Acting” as a “Businessman”
I found a new prototype craftsman and I showed negotiating prowess I had no idea was in me…or perhaps it was just my acting skills… https://www.ecknox.com/blog/2018/5/7/chapter-11-acting-as-a-businessman
Done Being Patient
And then there was that time that I got a little huffy, a little entitled, and a little obnoxious. But…it was justified. (Sorta?) https://www.ecknox.com/blog/2018/5/3/chapter-10-done-being-patient
It’s Done! (But Not Really)
I couldn’t believe it when I had a real, live, honest-to-goodness prototype…a 3D rendition of my concept and dream. And yet, it was a disaster. Can I tell you more?… https://www.ecknox.com/blog/2018/4/26/chapter-8-its-done-but-not-really
Baring My Design Soul
I’m an actor. I’m accustomed to auditioning and repeatedly sharing whatever talent I have and often baring my soul for complete strangers. Nevertheless, presenting my design baby, my complete focus, my sudden passion for this diaper bag project was the most terrifying “audition” of my life. Sharing one’s art is never, ever easy. Lemme tell you more… https://www.ecknox.com/blog/2018/4/23/chapter-7-baring-my-design-soul
To Blog or not Too Blog(gy)
In between the time I received my fabric and before getting the prototype built, I suddenly became a blogger. Yep. This company making “baby gear for stylish dads” was the inspiration for blogging. It was the chicken to my egg. Or the egg to my chicken. Or whichever. The business created the blog. Read on… https://www.ecknox.com/blog/2018/4/19/chapter-6-to-blog-or-not-too-bloggy
Chapter 4: Who’s Carolina Herrera?
So I called Ben Liberty. A brief phone conversation revealed a super friendly man who seemed far-from-pretentious when he listed the companies for whom he creates samples: Gucci, Coach, J.Crew. Once again, I was talking to a behind-the-scenes fashion mover-and-shaker who voiced full enthusiasm for my project. Spoiler alert: throughout the entirety of my research and building this company, everyone everyone EVERYONE has been nothing but helpful and enthusiastic. I expected Project Runway attitude and fashion snobbery. Nothing could be further from the truth. (Well, actually, Howard with the Italian fabrics was condescending and unimpressed, but then again, I didn’t actually tell him what I was making.) So, in person, Ben ended up being a blue-collar Bostonian with a fantastic small factory on the far Lower East Side of Manhattan. “I used to be one of hundreds. But 9/11 destroyed our business. No one could get to us. Everything south of Chambers was closed off for months. We couldn’t do business. That’s why I’m the only one left.” His factory was about 1,000 square feet …
Chapter 2 – Starting the Path
So I called a good friend, (also an actor), who had some experience in design, James Brown. I asked him, “I have a random idea for a design I’d like to ask you about. Can you meet me at the playground where I bring my kids?” A few days later we met at a playground, aka my office. “What do you think of making a stylish diaper bag for dads?” He didn’t guffaw in my face. Phew. First step down. Right away, James put together some inspiring ideas and notions of other bags. A week later, we met up at a coffee shop (so we’d have a table for sketching) and laid out a basic idea of a messenger bag. I mentioned, “I’d like the bag to be deep navy blue. Like Louis Vuitton material, but blue.” Armed with a design, I first reached out to a friend, Mike Lubin, whom I like to call “the unofficial president of an unofficial gay dads club” with which I’m remotely active. I texted him a pic of …
I was a (Sleep-Deprived) Mother
When Colton was 7 months old, his #tearlesscrying teamed up with three wake-ups at night, making me unrecognizable to myself. At the time, my partner was busy preparing symphonic concerts and was in desperate need of rest. Because I didn’t need to think beyond mere “survival” and hitting my sounds as a tap-dancing Santa Claus in Annie, I felt responsible to get up those three times/night. Mercifully, Colton never stayed awake, he just squawked. I re-plugged him with a pacifier and he went back to sleep. By that seven-month mark in December, I had not slept more than three hours at a time for 9 months. I. DO. NOT. KNOW. HOW. BREAST-FEEDING. MOTHERS. DO. IT. It was the time in my parenting life when I most related to sleep-deprived mothers. Disclaimer: No, I did not carry that child for 9 months. No, I did not push something the size of a melon through a hole the size of a carrot. No, I did not have hormones raging through my body. I did not suffer more …
#tearlesscrying
My second born son, Colton, is a magnificent study in extremes. He is adorable. He could charm the wallpaper off the walls. His seductive grin makes mincemeat of the hardest of child-hating hearts. And at the opposite extreme, what I call: #tearlesscrying. Not tantrums. It’s worse. He whines incessantly. Seriously, y’all. It’s soul-sucking. Believe me, Colton does not lack for coddling. Remember the whole ‘He’s so cute” bit? He’ll snuggle for hours. (Well, 15 minutes). It’s heaven to hold him in my lap after a nap. (Though his nap mainly consisted of 30 minutes of silence and 20 minutes of what? You guessed it: #tearlesscrying.)
