I always knew that I would have a career in a creative field. As a small child, I loved all modes of art and craft. I vowed at age 5 that my house was going to be magenta
when I grew up. It's actually black and white. I guess my style grew up too.
As an adolescent, I battled with the designer my parents had hired to
redecorate our house. When it came to my bedroom, I had a vision. I wanted hip Marimekko in blue and green. The designer wanted
to add peach to the color palette and use chintz instead. I was incensed! Whose room was this anyway? My parents bowed to the designer's expertise.
In high school, I took sewing lessons and decided that the world of fashion was my calling. I fought tooth
and nail with my mother over which foreign language would benefit my career. My mother thought Spanish would be most useful, while I felt that French was best for the Paris shows. I speak
a few words of each today, along with some useful phrases in Italian, but I never made it to the runway.
In college during the 80's...I'm giving away my age...the corporate world and the dream of wearing a Power Suit
beckoned. I studied Business and earned a degree in Marketing so that I could pursue
Advertising as a vocation. I wanted to make commercials. That never happened either.
A few years later, married with a baby, I attended a holiday cocktail party where I met a woman who had gone
back to school to study Interior Design. Conversing with her, the light bulb went on. This was what I wanted to do! Within three weeks, I was registered and
attending the Harrington Institute of Interior Design.
Recently, while walking through the Merchandise Mart in Chicago, I bumped into my parent's old designer. She
looked at me, shook her head and said, "I knew it. I just knew you were
going to become a designer!" I wish she would have told me back then. It would have saved me from nearly flunking out of high school Spanish.
ann h. kendall