Resilience: What My First Solo Show Taught Me

It has been a little over a week since Resilience: Stories of Strength, Culture & Creation, my first solo art exhibition and Matue Couture fashion show.

I purposely gave myself a few days before writing about it.

After months of planning, creating, solving problems, sending messages, making decisions and constantly thinking about what needed to happen next, I needed a moment to do absolutely none of that.

And now that I have had a little time to look back, one thing stands out to me:

I learned so much.

When I decided to put together Resilience, I had never organized anything like it before. I knew what I wanted to create, but I didn't necessarily know everything it would take to create it.

So much of this experience was simply learning as I went.

It started with an idea: bring my art and Matue Couture together in one evening.

Then came the questions.

What should the theme be? What story was I trying to tell? How should the evening flow? Should people experience the art first or the fashion show first? How do you move an entire room of people from one space to another? What kind of food should we serve? How much food? What about drinks? Seating? Music? Lighting?

Every decision seemed to lead to another decision.

And another.

And another.

At some point I remember thinking, Why did I do this to myself?

Probably more than once.

But then I would solve one problem and move on to the next.

I had to find models. And somehow, I ended up with this amazing group of women who trusted me enough to wear my designs and walk in my first show.

I had to find sponsors, which meant learning how to approach people and businesses, explain what I was creating and ask them to believe in it enough to support it.

I needed people to actually come, which meant reaching out to friends, acquaintances, organizations, old colleagues and sometimes complete strangers.

For some people, that may not sound difficult.

For me, it was.

Anyone who knows me knows that I am not someone who naturally talks a lot. I can spend hours creating something, but then asking me to go out and talk about what I created is a completely different story.

This event didn't give me much choice.

I had to talk about the show.

I had to talk about Matue Couture.

I had to talk about my art.

And then marketing added another level of discomfort: the camera.

I am still not someone who enjoys talking to a camera.

There were videos I recorded over and over again. Moments when I knew exactly what I wanted to say until I pressed record. Moments when I probably would have preferred to simply post a beautiful picture and disappear.

But I was learning something important.

I couldn't expect people to understand what I was building if I was unwilling to tell them about it.

So I kept showing up.

While all of this was happening, I was also preparing the actual work for the show.

New Matue Couture designs were being produced. There were production issues. Things didn't always happen according to schedule. Plans changed. I had to make decisions quickly, adjust expectations and keep moving.

My artwork needed to be finished and prepared.

The fashion show needed a flow.

The models needed fittings.

The marketplace needed to be planned.

And as the event got closer, the list somehow seemed to get longer instead of shorter.

But something else happened during those months that I didn't anticipate.

People started showing up for me.

I found incredible helpers and volunteers who didn't treat this like my event. They took ownership of it.

People stepped in and said, “I'll handle this.”

They moved chairs. Helped with food. Worked with the models. Welcomed guests. Made introductions. Helped with makeup. Organized spaces. Picked things up. Stayed late. Solved problems I sometimes didn't even know were happening.

I met wonderful people throughout the process.

And I also saw my family and friends differently.

I saw how much they believed in me.

I saw their patience when I was stressed. Their willingness to help when I needed one more thing. Their excitement for something that, months earlier, had existed only as an idea in my head.

There were so many moments when I felt God's love through the people around me.

Sometimes it was someone appearing exactly when I needed help.

Sometimes it was an introduction that led somewhere unexpected.

Sometimes it was a problem resolving itself after I had spent far too much time worrying about it.

And sometimes it was simply looking around and realizing how many people had chosen to stand beside me.

Then September 26 arrived.

There was no more planning for “the show.”

The show was here.

The artwork was hanging.

The clothes were ready.

The models were getting ready.

The food was being arranged.

The chairs were being placed.

People were moving everywhere.

And then the guests started arriving.

At some point during that evening, I had to stop and look around.

Something that had existed in my imagination was happening around me.

My paintings were on the walls.

My designs were walking down the runway.

People were eating, talking, looking at the artwork, watching the show and experiencing something we had spent months building.

We had actually done it.

Was everything perfect?

Absolutely not.

There are things I would change. Things I would start earlier. Things I would organize differently. Things I now know that I simply couldn't have known before doing this for the first time.

But I don't look at those things as failures.

They are experience.

And experience was probably the greatest thing I walked away with.

I learned a little about event production, fashion shows, sponsorships, marketing, leadership, asking for help and trusting other people.

But I learned even more about myself.

I learned that I can walk into something without knowing exactly how to do it and figure it out.

I learned that being uncomfortable doesn't mean I should stop.

I learned that asking for help doesn't make the vision less mine.

I learned that sometimes leadership is not having all the answers. It is being willing to make a decision, adjust when necessary and keep everyone moving toward the same goal.

And somewhere along the way, I became more confident.

Not because everything went perfectly.

Because it didn't.

Things went wrong, and I handled them.

I got uncomfortable, and I did it anyway.

I didn't know how to do something, and I learned.

I needed help, and I asked.

I was tired, and I kept going.

Which makes me smile now when I think about the name I chose months ago:

Resilience.

Originally, the name was about the stories I wanted to tell through my artwork, the collections, the textiles, the craftsmanship and the people and cultures behind them.

I didn't realize that creating Resilience would become its own lesson in resilience for me.

I started this journey with a vision.

I came out of it stronger, more knowledgeable, more confident, surrounded by people I appreciate even more than I did before—and incredibly grateful.

Grateful for every person who helped.

Grateful for every person who attended.

Grateful for the people I met along the way.

Grateful for my family and friends.

And grateful to God for reminding me, again and again throughout this journey, that I was never doing any of this alone.

Would I do it again?

Ask me after I enjoy my break.

But I have a feeling the answer is yes.

And next time, I'll know a little more than I did when I started this one.

That, I think, is the whole point.

— Simone