SHE'S LIKE A RAINBOW

DURING THE DARKEST DAYS OF THE PANDEMIC, AMERICAN-BORN, MILAN-BASED FASHION DESIGNER J.J. MARTIN TURNED INWARD AND FOUND THE FULL SPECTRUM OF HER PERSONAL AND PROFESSIONAL POTENTIAL.

- J.J. MARTIN

MY editor called me, sounding like most of my employees that week, speaking in a wobbly voice. She was scraping the bottom of an empty content barrel, she said, and our inventory of smiling, cavorting models and brightly patterned party-table settings were out of sync with the darkened, solemn veil that had blanketed the world. So, what I did next startled us both. With no makeup or good lighting, and without a shred of a script, I climbed up onto my couch, hung a colorful La DoubleJ print on the wall behind my head, stared into my empty phone, and hit "Live."

It was late March 2020, and I'd been sitting in an empty apartment in Milan watching the world spin and burn around a giant firepit of coronavirus fear. I felt oddly calm. Not that there was much to be serene about: I was the founder and creative leader of La DoubleJ, my five-year-old fashion and homeware business, whose sales were tanking and employees were panicking. The company's future was a dark, globby mess. I was also recently divorced and living alone with one mattress, one vintage couch, four chairs, two lamps, and one dog, whose relaxed snore was the only sound that broke the silence.

Contrary to my life before as an epic doer and compulsive creator in charge of a team of 50, I'd found an eerie new peace sitting for hours on the hardwood floor of that unfinished dark space, doing deep meditation and breathwork, talking to no one (in Milan, you could only leave your house for groceries or a quick dog poop). But once I opened my mouth that day to thousands of faceless followers on Instagram Live, the words just flowed, the messages coming more like downloads from somewhere beyond my own thinking brain, pouring down through my elaborate Italian ceiling and into the crown of my head.