I Wasn't Missing Anything. I Was Finding Something.

What Am I Missing?

When I started K. Becker, I did something that seemed perfectly logical to me: I took my clothes to art fairs.

I'm an artist first, so these were my people. I was surrounded by painters, ceramicists, jewelers, woodworkers, and textile artists. People who care deeply about what they make, how they make it, and the materials they use. It felt like a natural place for me to be.

But almost nobody was selling high-quality women's clothing.

At first, I found that reassuring. Less competition!

Then I started to worry.

Why Wasn't Anyone Else Doing This? 

Was there something I didn't know? Was I missing some obvious reason that fashion designers don't sell their collections at art fairs?

As it turns out, I wasn't missing anything. I was finding something.

Those shows have become one of the most important parts of my business, and not just because I sell clothes there.

I Get To Watch Women Discover K. Becker. 

I see what they reach for first, what they hesitate over, what they put on and immediately fall in love with. I hear what they wish I'd make, what they can't find anywhere else, and what they come back for.

And while women are browsing the racks, we talk. About clothes, of course, but more specifically about what they wish clothes would do for them.

I tell them that I'm the fit model for my collection. And I have hips.

I don't like a button-down shirt that's too tight across the chest because I know I'll spend the entire day pulling at it. So I make sure mine doesn't do that. I sew the pleats down at the top of my pleated skirt because, really, who needs more bulk around her waist?

I design primarily for women under 5'8" because most women are shorter than that. The average American woman is about 5'3½" tall, yet so much clothing seems designed with a much taller woman in mind. Proportion matters. Where a jacket ends, where a waist falls, how much volume a skirt has—these things can make all the difference.

These aren't abstract design decisions. They're things I think about because I wear the clothes myself.

Here's Something I Don't Think I've Said Enough.

I design these clothes for myself. Not for a particular age group, and certainly not because someone has told me what's going to be trending next season. I make what I want to wear. The shapes, the fabrics, the colors, the unexpected details. The clothes I wish I could find.

And one of the most wonderful surprises of this whole experience has been discovering how many other women want exactly the same things.

Women tell me they're grateful I'm making these clothes. And I'm equally grateful they've found me. There's an immediate understanding that happens sometimes, almost as though we've been looking for each other.

And here's the thing: they buy the clothes. Right there, in the booth. They try something on, recognize the quality, love the way it fits, and take it home. Sometimes they come back the next day for another piece. Sometimes they find me at another show months later.

Are They Missing Something?

Meanwhile, as I've begun building the wholesale side of K. Becker, I've encountered a different kind of response. Some boutiques aren't quite sure where the collection fits. Others may want to see whether the brand will be around in a few more years before taking a chance on it.

I understand that. Retailers have businesses to run and inventory decisions to make.

But I also think they're missing something.

Because every weekend I'm at a show, I meet women who are looking for exactly what I'm making. They want better fabrics, beautiful construction, interesting silhouettes, and clothes that feel current without being trendy. They want something distinctive, but they also want to wear it on an ordinary Tuesday.

And they're having a hard time finding it.

Somewhere along the way, it feels as though much of the fashion industry stopped offering that middle ground between disposable trends and prohibitively expensive designer clothing.

There's An Appetite For Something More, And I'm Seeing It Firsthand.

But I'm also beginning to realize that this is about more than clothes.

There's a connection that happens between women when we recognize something of ourselves in one another. Maybe it's a shared sense of style, or humor, or simply the feeling that we're not the only ones who see the world a certain way.

And lately, with everything happening in the news, that connection feels especially important. It can be exhausting to be a woman right now. We need to find each other, encourage each other, and sometimes just remind each other that we're not alone.

I'm not suggesting that a beautiful jacket is going to solve the world's problems. But I do think there's something meaningful about women supporting other women, about creating something that makes someone feel wonderful, and about finding a little joy in the middle of everything else.

And I get something from those shows that I hadn't anticipated: encouragement.

Building a business can be a lonely undertaking. There are plenty of days when I'm questioning a design, a decision, or the whole enterprise. Then I spend a weekend surrounded by women who are genuinely excited about what I'm creating, and I come home remembering exactly why I started.

And yes, the sales matter. A lot. Those weekends help finance the next collection and keep the business moving forward.

I'm growing the wholesale side of K. Becker, and I'm excited about where that can take us. But I don't see myself giving up the art fairs. They're where I learn, where I connect, and where I get to see the collection through the eyes of the women who wear it.

I didn't plan to build K. Becker this way. I just kept doing what worked.

And maybe that's the lesson. Sometimes the best way forward isn't the one everyone else is taking.

Sometimes it's the one you find together.