In an era where everyone is hard-pressed to become the next hype commander, ghosting your own brand feels like a death sentence.
“Be your own boss! Work for yourself!” felt like a nepo-chant, but that’s just me being salty, as plenty of bootstrap dreamers have done it. Straight up, it’s just hard to start a brand, but in all fairness, both parties always said that too…
Back in 2020, when the Vid was in full swing, I chose to manifest a brand. Gustmafia was my absolute brainchild and had been an all-consuming thought since my final year in LA. With no idea of what the future held, I had tunnel vision on a brand built around custom, reversible, art-adorned aprons. Sure, not the first apparel that comes to mind in the vein of streetwear, but it seemed like a much more solid plan than picking up a thumb-twiddling lockdown hobby. The vibe was raw, the energy unmatched, and time (for a time) infinite. It felt like I had been gifted an early, temporary retirement; for the first time, I didn’t have to scrape for every dollar in my account. Turns out there was such a thing as free lunch, and it was served up by the Feds.
I scoured the internet for solid artists, deep-dived for a reliable fabric source, and used my networking to secure a local manufacturer. I set up the LLC, copyrighted the logo, and on the high of a pipedream, shelled out over five grand to have my apron brought to life. I hit the ground running with making interstate runs between work and my seamstress’s location, but the grind sharply turned sour. My seamstress? She started flaking. Timelines got missed, avoidable mistakes were made, and suddenly, I was losing both cash and confidence in my production pipeline. It's the kind of slow bleed that every budding entrepreneur shudders at as it quickly becomes an anchor point for brand failure. For a novice, this usually gets coupled with a lack of concrete marketing strategy (me), the stress of answering to some unrelated 9-to-5 (also me), and a thinning reserve of energy from the pressure of trying to excel at both (say less).
No lie—it felt easier to quit. The fear of failing at something I poured so much into? It felt like failing my first kid, and something about playing the game at that level was terrifying. I feared what finding the balance, energy, gumption, and gall to succeed would look like because no one had ever asked it of me, and yet here I was demanding it from myself while comparing my first steps to someone else’s twentieth chapter; that self-doubt hit different. Keeping it real, it became more comfortable to sink into the familiar routine of a day job than to face the uphill battle of building something for myself.
Months moved, product didn’t, and I fed myself the lie that I was becoming another startup statistic. High hopes and low prospects led me here, I limply thought. I stayed at work late one day and met a fellow co-worker who was clearly into fashion; his pants game was untouchable, and I couldn’t hold back the compliment. We swapped grams, and I began to deep dive into his unwavering commitment to his brand, JPE. Between being an FIT graduate and working at the same job as I, he still found—no, MADE—time to get to the fabric district, cut and sew small batch garments, shoot and edit content, and ultimately amass an organic 20K+ following. Seeing someone else grind reminded me that it’s all about making time for what you love, no matter how much you’ve got on your plate; my last excuse had just left the room.
The road less traveled is likely that way because the incline is 90 degrees from the start, but every step, however you take it, is still moving up. Stepping away from Guts taught me that taking a break doesn’t equate to failure. Pharell once said now is a better word than never. Gutsmafia was always ready for me to pick it back up; vulnerably, it stands as a visual representation of a relationship (one of many) that I as a creator, am having with myself. It's an exposed space indeed to unveil and edit ideas, making swift exits seem like the more viable option, but I think the key is showing up even if you feel unready and accepting that the path to success isn’t linear or measured by anyone other than yourself. Maintain that your ideas are always seeds worth sowing with patience, and know that a comeback will always be stronger than the setback.
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