06/03/2026
jump scare ⏩️ same me, same scissors. I started my business in my bedroom in Park Slope, Brooklyn in 2011. After I got my first collection off the ground, I moved to my first commercial space Manhattan’s Garment District in mid 2013. Before the end of my lease, my building asked if they could move me upstairs to give my unit to a more important tenant. I obliged. By the end of 2016, I knew my collection was failing. I packed up my things and move back to Brooklyn, this time to the Sunset Park neighborhood, in a coworking space where I retooled my business to a fledgling zwd. Ironically, they also asked me to move upstair. Again, I obliged. When the host company became defunct, I moved out with short notice and scrambled to find a live/work studio, eventually landing in Bushwick. There, I created the work I would sell in the market in downtown Manhattan 6 days a week. In the morning, I would let a couple of sewers into my home, commute into the city, sell my scrappy shirts from 10 AM until 8 PM, return home, and finish up the day’s inventory before a quick rinse and repeat. I moved from Booth to Booth until I finally was able to open my pop-up shop in South Williamsburg, so back to Brooklyn I went! The shop started humble with plywood tables. Eventually I met 💕 He was like gasoline on my spark. Together, we remerchandised and rebuilt a permanent space, or so we thought. Shortly, after we were married, the pandemic hit, and we closed the store. We moved the studio back into the Bushwick apartment, quickly realizing we had outgrown our ourselves. We found a new home and spent the better part of the next two years working from our Covid shelter. Slowly, as the world reopened, we found a little space off the Morgan L train in a building where everyone said the landlord was “nice.” after a year of settling in and decorating, our rent was increased by more than $1,000 a month. The landlord told us that he wanted us out because he had a family member that he wanted to give our unit to, so we either had to pay up or pack up. Real “nice.” But I’m a big believer in fate. I told Mario that I never wanted to open a story again. He told me that was funny.