“It sure would be nice to go triple platinum
But there’s no guarantee its ever going to happen
And if I can only reach one set of ears
I know that I’ve fulfilled my purpose here”   

Johnny Lang

I listened to those lines last week while I was staring at a mountain of laundry on my bedroom floor. I had to stop staring at the mess and write them down.  Blues great Johnny Lang sings them in the aptly titled song  “One Person At A Time” .

Moments like that force me to stop whining to myself and remember why I do what I do for a living.  Being new in a tight-knit city, away from family and friends can make a girl awfully self-conscious and uncertain.   So every time I’m reminded of the reason I moved up here, I begin to feel at ease again… sort of.

I have been fitting bras and foundations for quite a while now, 8 years in fact. My store is located on Beacon Hill, and I have an idyllic 3 block commute every day.  I’m not sure if I fit into my new neighborhood yet.  But since I’m not leaving anytime soon, perhaps I’ll evolve.

KMhudson Ltd. has expanded rapidly, and with it there are many growing pains I’m feeling.  But when I’m working, fitting and helping women is one of the only things that can completely change my demeanor, mood, and the course of my day.

I love my customers… they make me better.  I learn from each and every one of them.  When I walk into the store in a crappy mood, I can usually expect to feel pretty good after the first fitting of the day.

The process of putting women in the right foundations and making them look great gets me out of my own head and reminds me that … how do I say this?.. that it’s not all about me.

Sometimes all of us need a little kick to stop being so self-absorbed.  I’m such a hurricane of emotion and drama that I need a giant push.

But when I stand in the fitting room with a woman who is unnecessarily critical of herself, and I show her that her body isn’t wrong,  I am instantly taken to my happy place…

I hand her a bra that fits, and the changes are immediate.  She stands differently, her facial expression changes, and she looks at herself with quiet amazement.

You can see her thinking “wow, is that me?  Is that my waist?  I look ok…  I’m ok.”

When she starts to smile and accept herself as being fantastic, when she loses her desire to look like someone else and loves what she has, and when she walks out of my shop a little differently    I begin to smile.

And then I know I’ve made a little bit of a difference in this town.  One person at a time.