Nina Garduno is a creative optimist whose soulful approach to business is regarded by many as prescient. Her FREECITYsupershop, located in Malibu, is conceptually part artistic commune and part transcendent experience. A former buyer for Fred Segal and Ron Herman in Los Angeles, Nina’s dislike of ‘who-cares commerce’ continually challenges her to take retail beyond itself. Drawing inspiration from her childhood growing up in bohemian Laurel Canyon and from her travels around the world, Nina has created a global destination and a world within a world where everything is possible.

FREECITYsupershop dove

You’re thought of as a trendsetter, a merchandiser, a buyer, a designer and creator, a curator. How do you think of your work?

Well, it depends. I mean, how I feel about my work now is that it’s more art-bound than it’s ever been before. And it’s about small groups of people being able to make the impossible happen. So it’s kind of keeping the ethic that all things are possible.

I’ve got a workshop in Hollywood, and there are about eight people that work in this workshop. And I’ve got a print shop downtown which does all the print. We make everything — from clothes to bicycles to structures to flags to tents to furniture, everything — and none of us really went to school for it. So it’s kind of like, ‘how do we do it?’ We get an idea of what it’s going to be and then it’s just kind of brainstorming about how we can make it happen, with all of our limitations — whether they’re financial limitations or just downright abilities — and trying to bring it to its highest possibility. So it’s kind of like very simple elements, bringing them to their highest possibility, with a super high expectation of the result and kind of keeping that ethic. So for me, it’s keeping the ethic, keeping the bar high, and trying to reach the bar. It’s really rewarding like that. I don’t know that it’s very different from what I’ve ever done in the past, but I think it’s always been about taking the harder road. Because ‘easy’ has never been challenging for me. I’ve never been excited about easy, so the challenge is that it’s hard.

For instance, we did the Natural FREECITY History Museum. We redo the store once a year in August because we opened the store in August four years ago, so we take an idea like that. And in this case it’s about really making it authentic, as authentic as possible to a real natural history museum. It’s just FREECITY’s take on it. So we made dioramas, we made Peking Man, and we made a lion — everything that goes along with that. And we didn’t use taxidermy or anything like that, so it’s about ‘how do you make that item not look like a stuffed animal?’ How do you make it real, as real as possible?

So it’s like a snowglobe, the store itself is like a snowglobe. That’s why we call it a supershop — it’s a small space, about 1500 square feet that anything can happen in. So if you keep that mindset and keep all possibilities open, you can make really extraordinary things. And that sounds totally cliché, but it’s true. That is what we’re doing. A lot of people think, being that we live in L.A., that we just got a prop house and borrowed stuff. But we didn’t. We made it all from scratch. For me, it’s very rewarding to know we made it happen.

Lion in the Natural FREECITY History Museum show

Front exterior of FREECITYsupershop, created by Nina Garduno

I understand the initial inspiration for FREECITYsupershop came from your travels, in particular to the commune Fristaden (‘free city’) Christiania in Copenhagen. How did this go from an initial feeling and revelation to actually opening your shop in 2005?

I think the revelation was that I’d been to places like that all my life, and it all clicked in one moment. When I went there in particular, somebody said, ‘Have you been to the free city?’, and I went ‘No, but what’s the free city?’ I was in Paris at the time on a buying trip and I had a few days, and I thought ‘I’ll go see it, whatever this is in Copenhagen.’ So I went to go see it, and the inspiration was that it was a collective group of people living like they checked the ‘other’ box. And it was like, ‘Wow, it can be anything.’

You know, why are we into this structure of city, or what it’s supposed to look like — it can be anything we want! So that was the inspiration, and I realized there are places like that everywhere. Some are based in architecture, some are based in religion, some are based in agriculture, some are based in total looney-zone, nudist colonies — it doesn’t matter. The point is that people are choosing to live a different life and making it happen. And I love that. So if I don’t want to move and go live in a commune or a kibbutz, how can I feel that feeling? So what happened to me was that it was a feeling. And if I want to live that feeling, I can live it anywhere. So FREECITY is a state of mind, it’s more of a feeling — and it’s personal.

And I think that’s the thing about the words. The words are personal — it’s not a brand for me, even though people call it a brand. It’s not a gimmick or a slogan. It’s a state of mind, it’s your own. My FREECITY is mine, your FREECITY is yours. And to keep it that way is what’s been the challenge: to keep it personal, to keep it so that it doesn’t feel commercial. So that I never get into that commerce thing that I hate so much, where people are buying stuff just to buy it, consumption for consumption’s sake. That for me is the biggest turn-off. You know, I change the labels all the time inside what I make to keep that purity about FREECITY. FREECITY is like the umbrella, and everything underneath it is kind of like what lives in FREECITY.

Interior at FREECITYsupershop, created by Nina Garduno

So did you realize early on that this was going to be a shop? Or did you have other ideas about what this concept could be?

Well, you know what? Yeah, I had many ideas of what this could be. One of which — and why I’m so attracted to what Liz [Lambert] does — was a big, broad piece of land, where anything could happen on that piece of land. Which is what Liz is realizing with El Cosmico. And I admire so much of what she does because she’s doing it, against all odds. Nonconformist, making it happen, and getting like-minded people to seize their own possibilities, and then make something very special and beautiful on a high level. She’s doing these trailers, but it’s not just a trailer park. It’s ‘how can you make that trailer incredible?’ So for her to bring it to that potential is really inspiring to me.

So a body of land and to do the projects on the land, and then clear the space and do another project on the land was the first idea. And that’s actually what brought me to Marfa, because I was looking for a little piece of land to do that in New Mexico — because anything can happen in New Mexico — but it just didn’t seem like the right place. Then I took a trip through Marfa, and we ended up buying a little piece of land there. That place is a free city, Marfa is a free city. It happens to be full of artists and creative people and regular people. It’s kind of like this ghost town that became something. And it’s like-minded. So for me, I live in one, or I have a place in one. It is a free city.

The INMUSICINLOVE VIBRATIONSANDCOLOR show at FREECITYsupershop

It’s clearly as much an experience as it is a shop. And the way you talk about love and faith, it strikes me that your creations are like physical expressions of this feeling. Is this a fair description of your intent?

Yeah, the intention is to totally be telling the truth. So it’s like about honor and telling the truth. And if it’s wavering off that and going into some other category, I throw it away and try to bring it back to that other quality. And I think because of that, it takes me on that other road inherently, because you have to have faith.

And, by the way, I fall into lack of faith while we’re creating the experience, especially with this last thing we did, because I was afraid to do Peking Man or these Neanderthal-type creatures. Because I went to New York to the Natural History Museum, and, oh, my god, it’s really incredible. They’re like the unsung heroes, the people that do those museums, because the dioramas are incredible, the sculptures are incredible. Just the celebration of the universe, and not just humans but also incredible animals and things that fall from the sky. It’s like the most amazing thing that somebody thought of to do a natural history museum — it’s insane! They’re so great.

Anyway, I saw these two people, a diorama, of the first walking man. It was a man and a woman, and it touched me so, it was so pure and so optimistic. You know, coming out of all this darkness that we’ve all gone through, it was like, how can I achieve that? And I was worried — are people going to freak out because I’m showing genitals, or it’s scary because they look like monsters, or whatever, right? And it came down to, it can’t be a natural history museum without the first man — I mean, it just can’t. And I added more fur, but to put it in clothes or put a garment on it, it would just be a mannequin, a Barneys window. So to keep it true, there was a lot of fear around it, and people that I work with helped me through it. To have faith, and have faith that it’s the right choice, and to not be driven by what other people think of the end result. Some people walk in and go, ‘oh, my god, that scared me,’ and some people walk in and they’re so amazed. That is the point — I don’t need a guarantee, but sometimes I fall into the fear.

Peking Man display at Natural FREECITY History Museum

FREECITYsupershop sneakers

In this case, it wasn’t the fear that you could pull off your vision, it was more a fear of what other people might think?

Well, I don’t know! It’s both. Just to pull off the vision would be that it rises above somebody’s impression of it. That it rises above all of that. That it goes into another realm of appreciation, instead of just that blanket opinion, which is easy to happen in a retail environment. Because I don’t have a museum — I have a thing that people can buy things in. So I’m sitting there with a lot of critical eyes because they’re purchasing something. So I kind of went about this feeling like everything in the store is either a relic or a souvenir of the experience, so it was like making souvenirs. So the challenge is to get it to a point where it’s beyond retail, it’s beyond shopping, it’s beyond commerce — and it can take you somewhere, into an experience. Getting it to rise above a blanket critique, and I’m sure it happens, so I have to remind myself of that because the stakes are high. I’m not confused — and I don’t think Liz is either, or anyone who does something similar to this — that to keep the door open and to keep the ‘exhibit’ alive, I’ve gotta ring the register. So there is commerce involved, but there is with the museum as well — they may call it a donation, but you’re still paying $2 or $7 when you go. Not always, but there’s commerce involved, and we’ve gotta make the money to keep the door open. It’s a funny balance.

I want to take this love question a bit further. I wondered if part of your mission with FREECITYsupershop is a reaction to the mass-production of things made without love?

A hundred percent. That’s a really great way of putting it, as a matter of fact. The wrong in what I make is the right of what I make. And there’s a fine line between them. And whether I’m making something that’s hand-screened or we mix every color from pigment, it’s got a lot of hand to everything we make. So for someone to look at it and be critical and go, ‘oh, this is defective’, and you go, ‘well, there’s a fine line between defective and beautiful.’ So when we’re doing our quality control, that is the defining difference: is it beautiful? So if it isn’t and it didn’t fall into that category, then we throw it out — it didn’t work. Yeah, love — love is important. The bottom line is that, you know, that’s really all that matters, isn’t it?

Love in the Quoddy boots at FREECITYsupershop

LifeNatureLove at FREECITYsupershop

More life, nature, and love at FREECITYsupershop

Words play a big role in the graphics you print and in the shop interior, but I understand words are also the starting point for a lot of your concepts. How do these word concepts come to you, and how many of them actually come to fruition?

Oh, boy. Again, I stick with FREECITY as the umbrella to all things possible. So I’ve had four different shows now. The first one was TEXASTOKYO TOKYOTEXAS, and that came from an inspiration from a trip I took to Japan, and I had just come from Marfa. And I saw a show there in Japan that was BerlinTokyo TokyoBerlin. So the whole thing was really interesting about these two places that are so very different, and what happens when they come together? And actually, in the end, they’re not that different — they’re like-minded. So that was my inspiration for that. And then, of course, you find everything that has to do with it. For instance, we made a teepee that was gold-flaked and hand-screened, with fresh-cut, giant bamboo. So there’s your combination, there’s the mix, in a physical sculpture.

Part of the TEXASTOKYO TOKYOTEXAS show at FREECITYsupershop

So the words are very crucial, the words are important. And one of the things that is my pet peeve about copycat resources now is that they don’t care about the words! In the words “Let’s go,” which I kind of put on a lot of what we make, it’s you and me together, let’s go together. So it’s very inclusive, and I think it is based in goodness.

You know, I’m not interested in t-shirts that say ‘Bitch’ — I’m just not interested in it. And particularly in what we just made with the Natural FREECITY History Museum, putting a lot of animals on things could be a super easy solution to making that concept happen. But, ok, what if you don’t do that? What if you tie your hands and go, ‘I’m not going to do that.’ Then what is it? What is the core of the beginning of all things? And we came up with ‘Big Fast Strong.’ Big, bigger, biggest, Fast, faster, fastest, Strong, stronger, strongest. It’s like the common denominator to all things, and underneath that realm of a natural history museum is survival of the fittest. And so that became a big handle for the whole thing. And then ‘Sending Light.’ It’s the two phrases together — it’s the Natural FREECITY History Museum/Sending Light. Behind the Peking Man, on the wall it says Sending Light. I mean, when man stood up and walked together, it’s the most optimistic possibility. It’s like the beginning. And I think there is a lot of goodness in the world, so it is about sending light and all those things. It can sound corny — but I’m a believer, what can I tell you!

This was the name of our last show, Believers, which had to do with pop art and a common experience that happened through the world in the late ’60s and early ’70s. The first yogi came to America, and it’s about religion and belief systems and breaking down belief systems and just everything. So it’s amazing what you can collect under an idea.

BigFastStrong t-shirt at FREECITYsupershop

Word concepts at FREECITYsupershop, created by Nina Garduno

NEIGHBORHOOD t-shirt at FREECITYsupershop

This seems to be an interesting era in design, where some of the most successful creations are ones that get shaped in an unpredictable fashion by human community and interaction, which we’re seeing a lot of with technology now. I know you freely invite people in to simply experience the shop, and the local surfers help themselves to the oranges you put out. To what degree is FREECITYsupershop being shaped by this interaction?

Well, I draw on different artists and invite different people to help. For instance, there’s an artisan fragrance I have in the store called L’Oeil du Vert made by Haley Alexander van Oosten, and it’s incredible what she makes. And I’m not just talking about natural fragrances, I’m talking about the real thing. Haley has plants in her studio/lab that she’s extracting oils from — the real deal. She’s flying to India for plants, she’s flying to Hawaii for plants — Haley is a very brilliant woman. So I’ll give her a phrase, and she’ll come up with a fragrance for it. And they’re very expensive. Haley did a whole thing called Carmot, which is five different fragrances, and they’re very beautifully made. There’s a glass interior and a wooden vile — it’s crazy what Haley does. And it was $5000 for the whole thing, and just the basic thing she made for us was $850. It’s like the right people can’t always afford it, but they are drawn to it. And then those that can, buy it, because they understand the rarity.

L'oeil du Vert fragrance at FREECITYsupershop

And there’s a few other people I’ve invited to do stuff too, like Clare Rojas — she’s a painter who lent some of her paintings. And they’re not just coffee shop paintings — I mean, this is the real deal. Scosha, who does jewelry — she’s brilliant. She did the most beautiful jewelry for the last show we had. Wendy — from Wendy and Lisa, if you’re familiar with Prince and the Revolution — she did the music for this particular show, and there’s a soundtrack that lasts the entire year until next August. Because everytime somebody comes in, they’re hearing it for the first time, and it’s part of the total. So she developed the music for that. I did a collaboration with Maharishi and Heath Ceramics. And I don’t know if you know how hard it is to get these people to do a small little thing with you. I’m honored every time that people say yes to that. Lisa Eisner, who’s incredible, she’s always working with us on every show that we do. Commune worked with us — they developed the nap bag for us. So it’s like we’re all showing up for each other to make something real. And it’s so rewarding in that way.

We made less money this year than we did last year, but my heart’s fuller. I got something out of it different this year. And just people walking in the store, there isn’t a day that I don’t go in there — and they don’t know that I make it — that somebody doesn’t go ‘I drove from Orange County,’ or ‘I flew my family from Michigan because this is all my daughter wanted,’ or ‘We wanted to see the store.’ I mean, I’ve had people cry! People have cried in there. I’ve heard many times, ‘This reminds me of something. This is me, this is me, there’s something about this that is myself.’ And, you know, kids don’t need to explain it or have it explained — they get it right away. But sometimes adults will be like, ‘what is it?’ And they may think I’m being difficult, but it doesn’t really matter what it means to me, it matters what it means to you. What you take from it is the most important thing. Who cares what it means to me?

Maharishi/FREECITY snopants at FREECITYsupershop

Serving bowls from Heath Ceramics at FREECITYsupershop

You’ve talked about travel and growing up in Laurel Canyon in Los Angeles in the ’70s as a big influence on your sensibility. Are there specific moments, images, music, anything, that you look back on now and think ‘wow, this really shaped who I am and how I see the world’?

I look around in my store now, and I’m realizing it has everything to do with my childhood. It’s like I’m realizing myself. I mean, that sounds totally narcissistic. It’s like you don’t even know why you’re driven to do a certain thing, and you realize it’s because it’s myself. It’s that simple and fundamental. The workshop and the store are very similar, and it’s important they are the same.

When I was a buyer, I was at the Ralph Lauren showrooms. And in Ralph Lauren, it’s the most incredible showroom, right? It’s like everything you imagine Ralph Lauren to be. And then I went to the bathroom, and it was all corporate and cold and crazy in there. And I thought, ‘oh, my god, this is who they really are!’ It was like ‘oooh, I saw it.’ It was like a movie set, and none of it’s real.

So for me, it was important to make the workshop the same as the supershop, and then I just realized it was more what I come from and who I am and what FREECITY is. It’s actually gone beyond myself, and it’s like protecting this other thing. The fact that I can look at it and go, ‘ooh, it’s all so me,’ is, you know, a point I didn’t expect to understand about myself. And it is like a mirror. And maybe it’s like someone who can really sing great, and they’re singing and they’re like ‘wow, I got to really feel all of me.’ Well, I feel it in my little way here with FREECITY. I see myself in it, I definitely do, but it’s also the bigger picture. It’s also the orchestra that’s making all the music. I just happen to be the one saying, ‘come be in my orchestra,’ and then all these incredible people are wanting to come be in this orchestra. And we’re all making this amazing music, and it’s so rewarding that way.

Reflections of Nina at FREECITYsupershop

FREECITY sweatshirt paying homage to Nina's artistic collaborators

I wanted to ask you about any other shop locations you plan, your website, or any other ways that you’re connecting with people.

The website initially, because I was so off commerce or selling it out — like a lot of celebrities wear FREECITY but I never post pictures of celebrities wearing FREECITY, I always thought it was a weird thing to do — but I started the website because internationally there are a lot of copies, so people couldn’t find us. So that’s why I started the website. First it was just supposed to be about information, about being able to at least find the real thing, about getting something authentic. And now it’s turned into a store. And so now the challenge is to be able to have it feel like something you’re inside three-dimensionally but you’re looking at on a website. So I’ve got mixed emotions about the website and about it being commerce. But on the other hand, it’s totally necessary and I think it’s making people happy, so I feel good about it.

In terms of the store, I have such a lack of faith in retail, which is one of the reasons I started this, because it was like a reaction to all of that who-cares commerce.

Do you have plans to open up other stores?

Yes, I do. I open a store on Highland [Los Angeles], and I’m just working on the lease right now. Hopefully it’ll happen in April or May. And that’s going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done because I can’t get a loan to save my life. Perfect credit, and as long as we’ve been in business we’ve been completely independent, and I can’t get a bank to give me a line of credit. So it’s really going to be hard to do it.

Do you think this could translate into other regions outside of your immediate area?

Oh, my god, I’d love it to! I’d absolutely love it to. I’ve got total fantasies about that happening. I’d love to have a store in New York, a store in London, a store in Japan, a store in Berlin — who knows? Big or small, it doesn’t matter. Just so that somebody can have a real experience when they come to be in something. You know, for me to sell to a store and have them put my little Sending Light sweatshirt next to some other brand — you know, it’s sad for me. And I’m like, ‘OK, it’s commerce. Ouch.’ It’s painful, but it’s financing the other stuff I’m doing. So there you go, I have to ring the register, and that’s how I’m ringing it. So I’m excited about doing more shops. We’ve turned down a lot of money and finance, and I don’t have any regrets about that. I’m fine with that. I don’t need to be loaded, I’m fine with it. I’m just really interested in preserving this and keeping it real.

SAME HEART TOKYO BOUND with Seilin & Co.

SENDING LIGHT t-shirt from FREECITYsupershop

I can’t wrap up this interview without asking you about your Artists Wanted program. Is that a program you’re still doing, and where do you see this going?

Yeah, we do it 365 days a year. We wholesale it to people that buy the other stuff. And it’s $75 for the t-shirt — it’s $75 when we sell it to another store, and they sell it in their store for $75, just to make sure nobody’s putting a penny in their pocket. It pays for itself completely, and then the rest goes to some known institutions. And one went to Margo Victor — she’s a filmmaker and kind of like a Renaissance artist, she can do anything. So that’s something we don’t get a tax write-off on, but that’s not the point. So it’s gone to great things — it’s gone to Habitat for Humanity, the Musicians’ Fund, it’s gone to the Baryshnikov Dance Academy, it’s gone to the Silverlake Conservatory of Music, it’s gone to Project Angel Food. It’s going to go to Blunk this year. So the idea is that you’re paying $75, but you’re giving $7500 to your little group. It’s helped with projects that we’ve done — it helped with a temporary store we did in Tokyo.

It’s something we don’t advertise because I always think that’s totally weird, you know, like Gap and RED. You know, there’s two ways to look at this. It’s like, yeah, they’ve helped bring awareness and money to impoverished Africa and AIDS — and thank god for that — but on the other hand, they’re rich too because of it. I just think it’s wrong, I just do. It rubs me really wrong. So a lot of people have this t-shirt and don’t know — I think I’d sell a lot more if I advertised it! I don’t know, it’s difficult. The point is to help as many people as possible, but I never want anyone to feel like I’m using it to serve myself, because it was not intended for that.

ARTISTS WANTED t-shirt at FREECITYsupershop

I went to the Saatchi Gallery in London right before I started the Artists Wanted t-shirt, and I was so moved by all of these paintings. It was so brilliant and beautiful and sublime. God, when you see a great painting — or a great anything — you can just go to tears, you know? And I was like, ‘wow, what can we do?’ I know I can make a t-shirt, I can do that, and I can give away that t-shirt. If it pays for itself, I can definitely do that. We can all do something, so that’s how we do it.

Nina Garduno

Share the love, post a comment!

{ 7 comments }

Nine months after our first interview, fashion designer Elizabeth Kiester has delivered the next phase of her Wanderlust line and global design vision. With her innate drive as a former New Yorker and the compassion and patience she has learned from the Cambodian people, Elizabeth has opened a second store in Phnom Penh, launched an e-commerce site, and gained a rapidly growing global following who applaud her gigantic leap of faith. She’s witnessing the blossoming of a revived creative culture in her adopted homeland, and she’s inspiring a bruised post-recession Western society struggling to find its mojo. Through her support of local craftspeople and her uplifting fabrics and designs, Elizabeth is giving life to hope and happiness in the world.

Maui dress from Wanderlust, design by Elizabeth Kiester

So we’re approaching not quite a year since we last spoke, and you’ve made huge headway in carrying out your vision. Tell me about your progress since our first interview last March.

Phew! It’s been quite a road! Well, so many things have happened since our last talk! I got myself an amazing business partner who has helped me enormously in terms of understanding business, growth, opportunities and operations; I opened a beautiful store on my DREAM street in bustling, burgeoning Phnom Penh, our capital city; and I just launched an e-commerce site, one that I am super proud of and excited about. Oh, and it looks like I will be doing a small collection for a major U.S. retailer for summer 2010, an exclusive showcase of Wanderlust and ‘Made in Cambodia’ fashion products! So excited about this!

Kyoto dress from Wanderlust, design by Elizabeth Kiester

Earrings from Wanderlust, design by Elizabeth Kiester

Biddleford pool top from Wanderlust, design by Elizabeth Kiester

Let’s go into some detail about your new shop in Phnom Penh. How did this come about, and how are you managing operations of your two stores?

Isn’t it amazing how sometimes things just fall into your lap? Like all the stars align, and you’re the beneficiary of a good stroke of luck and great timing (knock wood!!)? My friend here in Siem Reap, Kethana, owns amazing Khmer restaurants in both Siem Reap and Phnom Penh. Her location in Phnom Penh, on the coolest street in town, had an adjoining storefront that she had been using for storage and as a little apartment for her and her husband to stay in when they would go down there to check in on the restaurant. And the street just blossomed around her, and she thought, “Hmmm, why not rent it out as a shop space?” And she called me and offered it to me, and that was it. I jumped at the chance. Street 240 is the destination for shopping, eating, hanging out. And it keeps growing and blooming, and I got really lucky to have a spot smack in the middle of the action. And I knock wood every single day.

I will be honest — dividing my time between Phnom Penh and Siem Reap has been a challenge. We are about a six hour car/bus ride between the cities. Fortunately, they are now offering four flights a day back and forth, but this can be costly. So I try to be strategic with my schedule and go down to Phnom Penh at least once a month for a stretch of time — three or four days — and re-merchandise the store, check in with customers, go fabric shopping, get updates from my amazing shop girls, stock up supplies that are not available in Siem Reap, swing by the NGOs that I work with. I am always armed with a to-do list as long as my arm, and I am running around like a looney in the back of a tuk-tuk, eating in between stops. Not that different from my life in New York City, where I spent many evenings coming home from work at 11:00PM, eating a slice of pizza in the back of a taxi. As we say here in southeast Asia, “same same, but different.”

Wanderlust store in Phnom Penh

Exterior of Wanderlust shop in Siem Reap

So the big news of late is your new e-commerce site that you launched in December! What has the response been so far?

Oh, my god, it’s been quite amazing. I’ve gotten so much positive, energized feedback, I am frequently fighting back tears! Doing the e-commerce site was an enormous undertaking, filled with challenges and obstacles that I never anticipated. Like power outages here in Siem Reap for eight hour long stretches for consecutive days (no sewing, no uploading, no designing, no nothing but watching the clock — battery operated — and panicking). Fabric quantity issues. Unknown holidays that closed everything for days at a time. The list goes on and on and on. So ‘birthing’ this site and finally getting it up and live and in the face of all of this, to accept all this incredible feedback was so moving to me. I can’t even really express it. I am awestruck by people’s generosity and kindness.

Tie-front jacket from Wanderlust, design by Elizabeth Kiester

Matte wooden bracelets from Wanderlust, design by Elizabeth Kiester

Palm Springs dress from Wanderlust, design by Elizabeth Kiester

Small fringed scarf from Wanderlust, design by Elizabeth Kiester

I know you’d already established some relationships with local craftspeople, but have these relationships expanded further? What have been your biggest challenges?

There are so many, many more people I want to connect with, and when I can get some more breathing time, I will expand my network further and deeper. They’re out there, and I am always on the hunt! But I recently connected with this great NGO in Phnom Penh that trains the disabled on crafting, sewing and screen printing. We are selling their gorgeous handbags and cosmetic cases on the website. They’re awesome. I have them in the stores, and they fly off the shelves. We are also stocking their beautiful silk tie necklaces that look like candy to wear. Yummy!

In any developing country, the obstacles you encounter are probably very much the same. We in the west, particularly in the U.S., expect things to happen “5 minutes ago” and have a sense of urgency — real or imagined — that many places do not understand, nor can meet, or, quite frankly, find ridiculous! So I have tried to learn to slow down, breathe, learn patience and understanding, and express more empathy and compassion in everything I do. When talking about fashion or trying to express what it is I want to create in collaboration with all these wonderful craftsmen and villagers, I always have to remember there is no frame of reference. None. I show people photos, do drawings, pantomime. But keeping in mind that even if I draw, say, a large beach tote, they’ve never seen a beach tote, a beach, or a tote. So you’re working very much on the fundamentals, getting back to the basics, and building from there.

I have done some special projects for some stores in the U.S., and I must admit, I bristle when they give me some push-back — “oh, there’s a tiny blob of glue on this bracelet, so I am returning it to you,” “it wasn’t ironed correctly!” blah, blah, blah — because I think immediately, “There are no irons in the village. There’s no electricity!!!!” And “For chrissakes, the girl making that bracelet is disabled, working in candlelight, and I don’t think a microscopic dot of glue is life-shattering!” I’ve learned very quickly how sheltered and disconnected from the real world we from the west truly are. Because the real world is the developing world; the real world is where 90% of the population live in poverty. Ninety percent of the world’s wealth is held by 10% of the world’s population. True. I feel extremely protective of the Cambodian people and feel very familial towards them, and when westerners expect them to behave like Americans or treat them with disrespect, I shake my head in dismay!

Cotton hobo bag from Wanderlust, design by Elizabeth Kiester

Tunisia tunic from Wanderlust, design by Elizabeth Kiester

Agra tie dress from Wanderlust, design by Elizabeth Kiester

Silk bead necklaces from Wanderlust, design by Elizabeth Kiester

You have a lot of enthusiastic support, I think partly because people love the leap of faith you took, but maybe also because some of the most powerful bursts of creative energy in the world are in regions that are coming out of dark histories. You talked about the deep creative culture in Cambodia last time we spoke — what more are you seeing there?

I had this extraordinary conversation with my dear friend, Shannon, who lived here and is a beautiful writer. She was preparing to move back to the U.S. to finish a book she’s writing on Cambodia, and on the twilight of her move, I asked her what she is looking forward to in regards to living in the U.S. again. And she said what she missed the most about home was the concept of abstract thinking and having abstract conversations. And it really blew me away, and I really haven’t stopped thinking about it since. It was such an extraordinarily poignant and true thing to say. So deep and real. Abstract thinking is something that is so innate in us — it’s a freedom we were born with and nurtured on. When we were little, we were encouraged to think abstractly — express it with crayons, with words about our dreams of what we wanted to be when we grew up, to see movies about Superman and imagine we could fly. Yet here, abstract thinking has not been part of anyone’s dialogue since pre-Khmer Rouge. There are no dreams. You live in this moment and you figure out ways to survive your day, how to feed your family, how to find enough money to get some rice. There is no tomorrow. And yet with the dawning of a new Cambodia, I am seeing more and more young people thinking abstractly, expressing their inner worlds through painting, photography, even a little bit of fashion.

There was an art show a month ago at one of the most beautiful hotels in Siem Reap, the Hotel de la Paix, and they feature revolving shows of young Khmer artists. And this work was so beautiful. It was all charcoals of the changing urban landscape of Phnom Penh — the show was called Black — and it was so moving and so profound. Drawings and installations, really powerful stuff. It moved me to tears. A new show was just installed of large format oil paintings of flowers and insects — an explosion of color, tightly rendered images, dreamy and sexy and romantic, maybe in the style of Georgia O’Keefe. I was knocked out.

I am selling some stationery sets here at the shop of photographs done by children at a local orphanage who were given lessons on cameras and photography by world-renowned photojournalists, many who were here during the war covering it for their newspapers, who came back and volunteered their time to work with kids. These photos are extraordinary — mind-blowing! — scenes of Cambodian life through their eyes. Absolutely gorgeous. I am selling them like hotcakes — they are truly works of art. So I have hope and am energized that the freedoms we take for granted — the freedom to dream, to express, to have hope — are being instilled and learned by the new generation.

Wanderlust poster with happy images from Elizabeth Kiester

I was looking across your range of dresses, tops, bags, and so forth, trying to identify your fashion inspirations and influences. But what stands out most is that they all exude happiness, and maybe really a different viewpoint of how we should be living life. How has your work evolved this past year in expressing this global design language?

I have been thinking more and more about the concept of “hope” and how hope is the key to so many many things. During this financial crisis we’ve all been facing — and believe me, we feel it here in Cambodia: donations to NGOs are decreasing, tourism dropping, factories closing — hope is essential for getting us through the most challenging times of our lives. At risk of sounding super-corny, so forgive me in advance, I realize that clothing cannot give you hope, it doesn’t change how you live and how you operate, doesn’t cure malaria or any of it. But if you can surround yourself with sunshine-y things, bright colors, things that lift you up even if just for a few moments, then by all means, why the hell not? Why shouldn’t I wear a bright orange floral jumper in the rain? Why can’t I wear some silly cherry printed cheerful flip-flops if it gives me some notion of happiness and hope for a few seconds? Happiness and hope can be contagious, and I want that ‘disease.’ I want to intoxicate myself a little bit with something joyful and pleasurable. And, even better, our clothes directly help people. Leng and my whole team of wonderful, super-duper girls that sew for me, they have hope now for a more stable life, a notion of a better, happier tomorrow! Woo!

When I lived in New York, we all adorned ourselves in black all the time, and while there’s still a sinister, goth-y part of me, I am choosing to embrace lightness and energy right now. I have never looked at something from Marimekko and been depressed! Ever!

Lombok tunic from Wanderlust, design by Elizabeth Kiester

Mallorca dress from Wanderlust, design by Elizabeth Kiester

Orange polka dot flip-flops from Wanderlust, design by Elizabeth Kiester

Roppongi dress from Wanderlust, design by Elizabeth Kiester

We were in the midst of economic upheaval last time we spoke, and you joked about maybe having to go work in a rice paddy one day. Are you feeling like you’re pretty well in the groove now, like your dream is pretty tangible? And what’s next on the horizon for you?

I think the minute you rest on your laurels is the minute you’re in big trouble. Someone recently said to me, “Eliz, you’re working too hard. You moved to Cambodia to chill out, to soak up the sunshine, to live a slower life.” And I thought, “I did? No, I didn’t!” I came here to create a business, one that could support me and my whole team here. And I will work my fingers to the bone for the next twenty years to ensure that sense of security and safety for all of us.

I am definitely in a groove now, but I have so many, many things to do, and I am still virtually a one-man band. I have my seamstress team and my extraordinary shop girls, a business partner who thankfully does all the critical operational stuff without whom I may crumble!!! But in terms of sourcing, designing, product development, research, fitting…it’s all me. And I am the type of person who is always on edge, and always moving quickly and hopefully efficiently to ensure that things stay on path. I have an enormous responsibility to my crew here, and I can’t stop for a second and forget the mission, the goal.

I would love to start wholesaling my stuff or finding licensees to make things for us that we can’t make here, like swimwear and some accessories. That would make me really happy.

Sumatra shirt dress from Wanderlust, design by Elizabeth Kiester

Tulum tie back top from Wanderlust, design by Elizabeth Kiester

Yoke tunic dress from Wanderlust, design by Elizabeth Kiester

As you continue building your new life in Cambodia, munching on Khmer snacks such as spiders and crickets, what sort of pep talk or advice would you give to anyone contemplating a similarly big change of lifestyle and leap of faith?

I really don’t see why someone shouldn’t! I think it’s important to do something for yourself and connect it on a deeper level, to find this hidden or overlooked piece of yourself and explore it. To let go of all the ‘stuff’ and liberate yourself from it. We all find excuses not to do something, we all can look for reasons to not do this, not do that. But the most colorful and interesting people I know or have read about or want to emulate are people who took this leap of faith, who said “to hell” with the conventional wisdom, who grabbed an opportunity to move themselves forward in a different direction, a new path. I know, or I am certain, that more and more people, in the face of the economic meltdown, are considering big life changes. And I think it’s a perfect time to do so.

I just finished this non-fiction book called Mountains Beyond Mountains by Tracy Kidder, about an American doctor who opens a clinic in the mountains of Haiti. A Harvard trained genius who could’ve easily opted for a seven-figure salary and all the trappings of wealth and a plush academic life. But he chose to open this extraordinary place, do three-hour house calls to the infirmed in small huts with no running water, flying back and forth to Boston to do research on infectious diseases that affect/infect developing countries like Haiti. And, yes, it’s exhausting and troubling, and he faces huge, overwhelming obstacles every single day (and surely he must have times where he longs for the comfort of a TV and delivery pizza). But, in essence, his life has been one of exemplary value, of lessons and extreme values, of human connection and true connection to his passion. And while I am in no way — NO WAY!!! — comparing myself to this amazing individual, his story gave me such energy and such drive and such inspiration. I want that same type of commitment to my passion, my drive, my soul.

Elizabeth's home above her Wanderlust shop in Siem Reap

In whatever quiet moments you have, do you feel like you now have a larger mission in life or that there’s a unifying theme or purpose in what you’ve undertaken?

All I know is that I want to be successful, a successful human being. And if I can be so by selling a few cute dresses and some cool accessories, then that’s all I really care about. To connect with people, my new friends here in Cambodia, to ensure I am living a life that is filtered through a lens of empathy and compassion and energy and drive — that’s the mission that I will be on forever.

Elizabeth Kiester

Check out the full Wanderlust line plus Elizabeth’s images of Cambodia and travel recommendations on her website!

Share the love, post a comment!

{ 8 comments }

As the first blind person to summit Mt. Everest, Erik Weihenmayer is already an inspiration. But somewhere in the process of losing his sight at age thirteen and then going on to climb the Seven Summits, Erik internalized an understanding of humanity that has now given his life even higher purpose. In addition to being an author, a highly sought-after speaker, and an award-winning athlete, Erik is an innovator who challenges how we perceive adversity. He helped a group of blind Tibetan kids climb to Mt. Everest’s advanced base camp, changing their own view of themselves and whole cultural perceptions. A highly creative thinker and visionary, Erik proves it’s not our eyes we see with.

Erik Weihenmayer on the cover of TIME magazine

Editor’s note: As we leave 2009 and enter the new year, I’m bringing you this special interview with climber Erik Weihenmayer. Though this is a bit of a departure from our normal topic of art and design, I think you’ll find Erik’s story and views of life relevant and inspiring to just about anyone.

You’re someone who has been incredibly creative and tenacious in pursuit of your dreams and goals, which I imagine was in the face of well-intentioned advice from others. Can you share your own advice about evaluating strengths vs. passions in choosing a path forward?

Well, I think I will start by saying that I’m not a soundbite guy, because there’s no magic little thing that’s going to sound great in an answer here. For me, the excitement of life is that sort of journey of figuring out what your strengths are and what your passions are. There’s no way to separate it. You know, I’m a climber, and I fell into climbing. I only turned to climbing because I couldn’t play basketball anymore. And because I couldn’t do that and I wanted to be an athlete — my brothers were both athletes and my dad was an athlete — I wanted to figure out how to do it too. So I just stumbled upon rock climbing. I had no idea whether I’d be good at it or whether I’d like it, and so it was all about kind of reaching out and trying things and figuring it out. And so I would say my advice to people to find their strengths and their passions in life is to understand that the struggle of reaching out and trying things and stretching yourself really is an uncertainty about what the course of your life is going to be about. That begins to define your life and begins to help you understand what your course is. So it’s the struggles, it’s the failures where sometimes your strengths and your passions are ignited.

It’s awfully difficult to assess what your strengths and weaknesses are. You know, there are a lot of books out now that sort of talk about playing to your strengths, and don’t worry about your weaknesses. You know, kind of let go of your weaknesses, because you can exponentially grow your strengths, and with your weaknesses you might be able to get only incremental improvement and you might as well not waste your time. And that’s an ok argument. But any argument taken to the nth degree is almost dangerous. You can take it too far. So I think that you don’t really know what your strengths are until you’ve struggled and failed and failed again, and really gone through that process of exploration and pioneering to kind of figure out what they are. And through that experience, oftentimes those strengths and your clarity and your vision are formed. So you have to go through the pain to begin to clarify your life. It’s impossible not to.

It’s easy to write things off and say, ‘Ah, I’m not good at that.’ But you don’t really know — that’s the tricky part of that theory. And I think those theories of playing to your strengths — you know, just sort of inputting your strengths like a computer and then out pops your destiny in life — I think that’s a mistake. I think what you do is if you have a love of something or an interest in something that you’ve developed, or you think about the impact you want to make or the legacy you want to have in life, you start with that and then figure out how to get there. And you develop the strengths needed to get there. Some of them you have, some of them you have to struggle and develop, and then others, if you’re never going to have them, you just surround yourself with great people who will help you become more complete.

Watch the heart-stopping progress of Erik and his team as they work toward summiting Mt. Everest.

Were you always confident that you would achieve your goals?

When you’re young and you have done nothing, you have sort of this burning passion to do something, to make your mark in the world. And so I definitely had that passion, that drive. And sometimes that would get me in trouble. I remember training for Mt. McKinley. I lived in Arizona, which wasn’t the best place to train for mountains at the time, but my friend said, ‘So how are we going to start training for this? How about we do long runs through the desert?’ And I said, ‘Yeah, I can do that, no problem.’ And I would run with my guide dog, but there were parts of the trail that were really narrow. And I think it was our first training session that I tripped and landed on a cactus and had to go to the emergency room. It was my first training session for my first big mountain. So sometimes that drive kind of gets you in trouble, but it also can motivate you.

And when did you determine this goal of climbing the Seven Summits?

Well, I lived in Arizona at the time. I was a teacher and I loved teaching — I taught fifth grade math and English, and I could have taught forever — and I told a friend of mine who was a teacher at the school that I’d like to climb, just basically rock climbing. And we’d go out climbing on the weekends, and we were climbing some rock face that was kind of hard. I got to the top, and he said, ‘Hey, we should try something bigger.’ And I said, ‘What do you think that should be?’ And he said, ‘How about Mt. McKinley?’ And that’s a leap going from rock climbing in the desert in Arizona to climbing a 20,000 foot, huge, glaciated peak in Alaska. But I got excited.

My friend had attention deficit disorder, so he was a guy who could take a big leap in life, but I couldn’t do that without being prompted. But once the idea was out there in space, I could then sort of figure out how to get from point A to point B, I could develop the plan how to do it. I have a bit of a linear mind, so I sort of developed our training plan, and we went out and trained on mountains all over the country — and failed on all of them! We never summited anything. But in that failure, you know, getting turned back on mountains in the Rockies, in storms, we kind of felt we had gone through a lot, that we’d tested ourselves, that we were ready. And I didn’t know if we were going to summit Mt. McKinley or not. You never really know if you’re going to summit a mountain or not. I mean, of course, you believe you are because that’s the way you have to proceed — you have to see yourself completing it — but you still never know. You just never know what’s going to happen. But you go forward totally prepared to succeed. So we were ready for McKinley, and we flew onto the glacier and faced a lot of storms, but we summited on our 19th day on the mountain. It turned out it was Helen Keller’s birthday when we summited, so that was pretty cool. But getting there, I worked harder than I ever had in my life. There were days when I was so absolutely wasted and felt like I could not take another step, so it definitely was a great learning experience. Because whenever you do your first big thing in life, you realize how hard you have to work and what a mental struggle it is. So when I look back — this was sixteen years ago — I still think that was my hardest peak because it was such a game-changer for me.

It’s funny, because there were so many times throughout that climb where I thought, ‘I am not cut out for this. This is miserable, what am I doing here?’ And I finished the climb and I slept for like three weeks when I got home — I just slept, I was so wasted, I’d lost a ton of weight. But it’s funny, because three weeks later, you wake up and you’ve forgotten all the terrible stuff and all the suffering. And all you remember was the great camaraderie between your friends, and standing on top, and going beyond your expectations. All the good stuff comes out, and all the bad stuff just sort of drifts away. That happens every single time you go to a mountain.

I knew Kilimanjaro wasn’t as hard — it’s one of the Seven Summits — so I was kind of on the Seven Summits course to climb the tallest peak on every continent. And I didn’t even know if I could do it, but I thought I’m gonna set myself on a trajectory and I’m gonna try and see if I can do this. And I thought, ‘Hey, maybe I’ll get five out of seven!’ But I was keeping my mind open to the experience and trying to grow and figure out how I could do this stuff and wrap my head around this stuff. And Kilimanjaro was not as hard as McKinley, but it turned out to be pretty hard, and I just kind of kept going. And it was only like a month before I was planning my next trip.

Erik Weihenmayer on Mt. McKinley, photo by Jamie Bloomquist

Erik Weihenmayer on summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro

Erik Weihenmayer on the summit of Mt. Cook, New Zealand, photo by Eric Alexander

You’ve written books and have done speaking engagements and so many other things now. At what point did you begin to internalize and share these larger lessons that have led to this part of your career?

I had had a lot of personal successes on big mountains before Everest, but I have to say, I think Everest was the paradigm shifter in my life. When I thought about climbing Mt. Everest, when I was training, I thought about all the massive hurdles and was realistic about all of them. When you go to a mountain and you can see it, you look up at that mountain, and you’re just so intimidated by this massive peak. And not only the physical nature of it but the folklore and the legend behind it, and Mt. Everest obviously has all that. You know, hundreds of people dying and struggling trying to get to the summit. So when I would think about climbing Mt. Everest, it almost defied my imagination to see myself standing on top. It really was quite a struggle to keep myself from going, ‘What the heck am I doing?’ It was a real mind game. So to go through the experience and actually reach the summit, it might have changed other people’s ideas of what was possible — well, first of all, it changed mine! So that was another big game-changer for me, because I now realized what it took to do something that seemed pretty near impossible.

So after that I got home, and life was totally crazy. There was paparazzi at my house, and Oprah calling, and I was on the Tonight Show, and all that kind of craziness. So the external life changed, but also I started to think, ‘OK, maybe I’ve gone through enough that I might have something to teach other people. Maybe I have some things that could help people.’ Kids in particular, and not necessarily blind kids, but kids who have challenges and who have their own struggles. And that’s pretty much everyone, almost. And that’s when I wrote my first book, which was more of just a memoir, just a book where I wanted to share with people. Because I think the best kind of writing is when you take people on a journey and you say to them, ‘Hey, look, I don’t have all the answers, but let’s go through this experience together. I’ll take you on this journey, and we’ll learn together.’ And so a kid sitting in English class who isn’t blind reads that story and finds a lot of common ground and says, ‘Holy cow, I’m not blind, but, man, I relate to this guy’s experience! I struggle in a different way.’ So that was really my goal for that book: not necessarily to teach people anything, but to kind of find that common experience.

It wasn’t until my second book, The Adversity Advantage, that it became more of a how-to book. I teamed up with this co-writer named Paul Stoltz who had studied resiliency around the world, and we wrote this book together about how to confront and harness adversity. He kind of came at it from the science side, and I came at it from the experience side.

Erik Weihenmayer and his team on the summit of Mt. Everest, photo by Luis Benitez

Erik Weihenmayer on Times Square billboard for Foundation for a Better Life

How do you assess risk?

First, I would say I’m not a blind Evil Knievel, you know, getting shot across the Grand Canyon. I’m not looking for a way to defy death. For me, the exciting part isn’t about the risk. The risk is not the end-all. But it is something you have to assess and work your way through in order to have great rewards in life, to see great things and experience great things and have success. So risk is like one of those necessary evils that you have to figure out how to master — or work with it, but never master. And it’s a struggle to do that. Climbers especially assess risk all the time, and a lot of the great climbers are dead. They say there are a lot of old climbers and bold climbers, but there aren’t old and bold climbers. So you’ve got to be careful. I’m not a big risk taker, but in a sense, you have to lay it out there. You have to know when to lay it out there on a mountain, because you’re never going to summit anything unless you’re willing to lay it out there. But, at the same time, you do it in a very, very careful and strategic way. And you don’t do it all the time. It’s a science and an art to know when to lay it out there. And it’s something you learn your whole life, and you make a lot of mistakes along the way. It’s a real balancing act.

You know, I’ve turned back on probably 50% of the mountains I’ve been on. And there have been mountains where I’ve said, ‘Come on, we’re a half an hour from the summit! I’ve got the summit fever!’ And my friends turn us back, and thank god they did, because things might have gone really bad, you know? And then I’ve been on big peaks where you say, ‘We’re almost there, let’s keep going,’ and the lightning’s exploding all around you, and you squeak through and you high-five it in the parking lot. So it’s so tricky to figure it out. And a lot of times it’s easy to say, ‘Ah, the mountain beat us this time,’ — and when I say mountain, that could be anything. But when you look at a situation, it’s so easy to relinquish control and say, ‘Well, the weather and the conditions weren’t right.’ So the point is that the elements, the environment, it isn’t going to change for you — it is what it is. The only thing you can change is yourself. So I’ve always thought, ‘OK, the mountain is what it is, and I have to adapt my approach to make it work for the situation that I’m seeing, that I’m experiencing here.’ And it’s a very sort of pragmatic and sort of brutally honest way of approaching life. You don’t see life the way you wish it were, you’ve gotta see it the way it is. That for me is the first step in succeeding in any situation and then adapting my approach to that situation.

Erik Weihenmayer climbing Ama Dablam, photo by Didrik Johnck

Erik Weihenmayer in Arctic Team Challenge in Greenland

Erik Weihenmayer climbing ice fall in the Himalayas, photo by Rob Raker

I love your examples of what you call positive pessimism: “You may be blind, but you sure are slow!” or “It may be cold, but at least it’s windy!” So in this economy, I guess we’d say, “It may have been a near catastrophe, but at least it’s long and drawn out!” Is part of harnessing adversity about keeping a sense of humor about it?

Yeah, it definitely is. Positive pessimism is sort of a bit of a dark way of laughing at yourself and saying, ‘Hey, we may be facing a tough time right now, and it’s hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel, but we’ll get through this together.’ It’s sort of like asserting a bit of control over your course. And there are big overwhelming challenges right now that we’re facing, but if you can make a joke about it, it’s sort of like you’ve pulled it into your control a little bit more than before.

And I also think that, yeah, we’re in a challenging time right now, but when people are facing challenges, that’s the greatest time of growth. So this is the time to really be making ground, rather than just kind of digging in and holding ground and trying not to retreat. When adversity strikes, it’s a very pivotal moment where you can make really great progress in your life. So I guess I believe the opposite of sometimes what you’re taught — that in a crisis you just sort of hang on. I think in a situation like this, this is like an earthquake. The ground’s moving underneath you, so use that energy to propel yourself forward.

In the following video clip, Erik discusses one of his early inspirations and his philosophy about harnessing adversity.

Your climbing entails life-or-death choices, which may seem a world apart from the theme of art and design. Though for the creative people I’ve interviewed, I think it does feel like a life-or-death choice, and many have taken enormous leaps of faith to pursue what they love. Do you have a philosophy, especially after experiencing so many different cultures, about what our purpose is in life?

One is that life is unfair, that it’s really unfair. You know, you’re a baby born in Africa and you live a month and you’re eaten by termites. Or you’re born blind, or whatever. I mean, life is just not fair — and, in fact, it’s terribly unfair. But if you are given a chance to live a decent length of time, then what I’ve learned is that in a way it comes down to everyone being born with certain challenges or hurdles or barriers. And I think maybe a bit of the meaning comes from doing the absolute best you can, maybe even better than you think you can, with what you’re given. So taking what you’ve been given and just squeezing every bit of potential out of that and making an impact in the world and making a difference.

Erik Weihenmayer with one of the blind Tibetan kids he led to Mt. Everest's advanced base camp, photo by Didrik Johnck

Erik Weihenmayer with teammate Jeff during Arctic Team Challenge

Erik Weihenmayer speaking at the Presidential Inaugural Conference

What is your involvement now with BrainPort, and what’s next on the horizon for you?

BrainPort is amazing technology. It’s basically a camera that I’m wearing on my head — nowadays it’s just a tiny camera mounted on a pair of sunglasses, it’s really come a long way. And it presents an image that tingles on my tongue. So it’s like 400 vibrating little dots, and when they light up in certain ways, they form lines and shapes and ultimately patterns and images. And so I can “see” certain things. So they’ve given me a BrainPort and asked me to test it out. So I can use it to read notecards. My son is adopted from Nepal, so he was learning English, and I could read the notecards faster than him. And playing games with my kids — I mean, that sounds like nothing, but to see what people are doing, to see your kids’ faces, and play little games with them and see what their hands are doing, it’s incredible.

I’ve been successful enough in life to have free time and to be able to make my own schedule and to be able to pursue things that I have no financial interest in. So BrainPort’s one of those — I’m just a happy volunteer. I like what they’re doing. I think it’s neat when you’re involved from the ground up with some of these things that twenty years from now that might totally make a person’s life different.

In the following video clip, Erik tests an earlier model of the BrainPort device that lets him see for the first time since he was thirteen years old.

On the horizon is lots of climbing. The ten year anniversary of our Everest climb is coming up in a year, and I’ve been organizing it. The guys I climbed with ten years ago, I haven’t lost touch with hardly any of them. We’re all still good friends, and we’ve done a lot of different climbs together. A lot of our lives were really transformed by Mt. Everest and that climb that we did. Like one guy went on to raft the entire Blue Nile from source to sea — 4,000 miles, and it had never been done before. And I think the team has gone on to climb Everest collectively eleven or twelve times since that first climb. So collectively the way the team has decided to give back is that we’re going to guide a team of injured military veterans to the summit of a peak called Lobuche, which is next to Mt. Everest. It’s 20,000 feet, so it’s 8,000 feet or so below Everest, but it’ll still be a good adventure.

What do you love about your work and your life?

I guess, what part of it don’t I like? I have a beautiful family. And I have a job where I work really hard, but I can make my own hours. And I get to travel and work with young folks on different adventures. I get to take people who sometimes might be pushed to the sidelines and teach them how to live in the mainstream of life, and that’s definitely fulfilling.

Erik Weihenmayer climbing in Thailand, photo by Charley Mace

Find out more about Erik’s speaking engagements, his work with teachers and students, his books and DVDs, or general information from his website.

Share the love, post a comment!

{ 4 comments }