Today, the doors opened wide. The warm brocade of March sun spilled in, and shoppers shopped. But mostly they celebrated with champagne and sangria and macaroons in hues of Marrakesh. The grand opening of ibu was also a birthday — nine months to the day from when Susan first saw this raw and beckoning space at 183 King Street.
And now the renovation is complete, the shelves stocked with gorgeous global threads and beaded jewels from artisans of distant lands, and a business is born. This business of embracing beauty, of draping oneself in authenticity, of dressing in story and tradition. The business of “wearing the change.”
Oh yes, the change. Before she was a business owner and leader of the growing tribe of fans and customers whom she dubs her “ibu allies,” Susan was my ally in the journey that birthed this blog–our joint journey as daughters venturing through the foreign land of ALS. Wear the change.
As those reading this know, A Life Still has been still for quite a while, all but retired after having done its job of giving us space to chronicle and reflect on our parents’ illnesses and, four times over, their eventual deaths. But in the interim, Susan has been anything but still, and far, far from stagnant. In creating and birthing ibu, she has woven together her father’s spiritual and intellectual depth with her mother’s passion for the tangible and stitched them with her own love of travel and writing, not to mention her simply fabulous sense of style, and here we are today, walking into a King Street storefront, a marketplace that makes a difference in women’s lives — both the women who created these goods and those of us lucky enough to wear them.
Bill and Wylodine would have been so proud of their radiant ibu gal. A woman of substance (the definition of “ibu”), a woman who wears change more elegantly and boldly than anyone I know. An ally and artisan, a woman of the ever-changing cloth.
The shop is open, folks. Much is in store. A life still. Artfully loaded shelves. A lot (of) silk. A luminous space. A lovely Susan.