Food for Thought - 2010: The Year My Life Changed

MIAMI, FL — May 2, 2025 — A couple of nights ago, I was on the way to meet my friend Mario Carbone for dinner, when I experienced a moment of clarity. I took the car and drove it down Collins Ave from the Kith store, which is off 20th St, to South of Fifth. It was about 6:30, so there was a lot of traffic and I was hitting every light. As I crawled down the strip, I started noticing all the places on Collins between Kith and Carbone that I used to spend so much time at when I was younger. So many places were still there, as if frozen in time.

While working at David Z., I used to travel to Miami every month or two. It was my escape. I spent a lot of time on this strip—at the Delano, the Shore Club, the Sagamore—experiencing the Miami lifestyle. I’d walk to the Webster, or this store called Arrive, or shop along Lincoln. It was if I had been transported back to who I was then, and I could feel the difference.

2025 marks the thirtieth year of my career in retail. At the midpoint of that journey is the year that changed my life: 2010. That was the year I left David Z. to start Kith. It’s the tipping point that separates who I was then from who I am now. For the first fifteen years, I was laser-focused on becoming the person I dreamt of being—expanding my network, learning to create product, building the foundation of my future. I worked every weekend, but I still had some semblance of work-life balance. I would go out with my friends, travel, take vacation days. It wasn’t until 2010 that I truly understood what it meant to have my head down with blinders on.

As I drove down Collins, past all of these memories, I realized how much time had passed. In the fifteen years since 2010, there have been very few moments that have given me a fresh perspective on how far the brand, and I, have come. It’s natural. It’s hard to notice changes in people or places you see constantly. But when it’s someone or somewhere you haven’t seen in a long time, even small changes are pronounced. So as I hit a red light on 12th St, then 11th St, I finally had a chance to reflect on the last fifteen years. And in doing so, I thought I’d share what I’ve learned along the way for whoever it may, or may not, benefit.

As you sprint towards whatever dream you’re chasing, do not let your preconceived notions of success dictate who you are. I’ve worked every day for thirty years to achieve some level of success in this world, and what I’ve learned along the way is—the things I love and enjoy most have nothing to do with money, status, or the “nicer” things in life. They have exponentially more to do with how you spend your time and who you spend it with. You’ll set priorities to create a formula that leads you to your end goal. Over time, those priorities will stack, and you may forget about the smaller moments that bring you peace. Those smaller moments aren’t part of the formula.

That’s not to say that you shouldn’t relish the grind. There’s beauty in the process. I remember what it was like in 2010, staying at the Shore Club even though it was beyond my means. Paying for dinners at Nobu that I couldn’t afford. It’s that feeling—when you work so hard just to be there, and still don’t feel like you belong. So you work harder, and you thrive, until eventually, you do belong. Bottle that feeling and never let it go. Because if you don’t, there will come a day when you realize that having to earn it is far more satisfying than having it at your disposal and not appreciating it.

Now, entering my third decade in this business, these are the thoughts that are front of mind. My memories that predate Kith give me the perspective to appreciate what the team and I have built, but more importantly, remind me of my true priorities. Maybe that’s why I resurrected my old blog. To take it back to a time when I didn’t have to limit these inner monologues to the length of a caption. Or maybe, selfishly, so I have a reference point to keep my priorities in order. In either case, I hope it serves of some value to you. And I hope you find time to disconnect from the formula, have dinner with a friend, and reassess your steps toward fulfillment.