I write creative ads for a clothing company.
Call me Isabel; some years ago—never you mind
just how long—with no money in my purse and
no job, I decided to try my hand at advertising.
As fortune would have it, I was hired by the
Watchtower Clothing Company. There, I
wrote ads for the catalog, and I still do,
to this day.
Turns out that Watchtower Clothing
specializes in denim. As such, my ads
focus on this fact, and I strive for creativity.
You might think that the catalog would not be
very big, but it is, surprisingly enough. I guess
folks here in the northwest cotton to denim and, in
fact, we even carry denim socks. Yes, I know—I was
surprised at first as well. And so, I write my ads with as
much ingenuity and vigor as possible—I even added a
poem once, called, The Denim Plant. That was in the
spring catalog—we saw a spike in sales.
Ah, I long to be accepted, by friends, by family.
But this is not the case—I am a mere, “Denim Hack,”
to most; to cousins, aunts, uncles. Even my husband
smirks and suppresses a guffaw when I speak of my
catalog writing. “In denim you can find yourself the
lords of all creation.” At this, my husband did not
grin, but eyed me narrowly, as if his eyes could
stitch pockets smartly.
‘Wear the denim as you would wear pride,
like beams of morning sun.” I work nature
into my ads, for shirts and jeans and jackets
and socks, for all the raiment denim is to fashion-
conscious folk. When I see pictures of denim, and
see my words in print, I feel a sense of pride.
Call me a writer; call me a hack—I do not care,
so long as I apply, with love, the advertising to
the product. Today the boss told me that,
The Denim Plant will run again in the
next catalog. It drinks light from
above, that plant. I love my
job; I sense a little more
warming light within.