If you know me well, you’d know that I got my start in the industry as right hand to one of the Caribbean’s most sought after Fashion business owners Kerry-Ann Clarke. Kerry, the sharp and intelligent socialite has been running things since the 90’s, when she famously said 'I do' to Phillip Paulwell and in extension the whole Kingston society. A Parsons graduate, Clarke is an OG Mandeville gal and daughter of agro-biz royalty. But for the sense of my topic, above all the hooplah is ‘Kerr’ and her love for coffee. It wasn’t until observing her and all her nuances that I discovered just how important a role coffee played in the ever glamorous world of in-power fashion culture. Second to cigarettes, coffee is a main food group of ‘the cloth’s’ elite. As a fashion intern/assistant, brewing a ‘perfect’ pot of coffee during my first week on ‘the job brought a swift promotion from the Emily reduct status that was auto-assigned upon entry. AKA, this was a huge deal… to Kerry and her kind at least. Either way child, I was alive.


Working in a luxurious but homey boutique that famously hosts the country's fittest movers and shakers, I was right on the pulse alright. Even more invigorating though was the discovery of my all important role as coffee maker and how I may use it to further my agenda. At Kerry’s, it was always ‘pitch day’. There was always someone important or someone important to someone important that you could casually ‘run something by’. But I needed an in - a way to appropriately make myself a part of the conversation with these fine ‘eligibles’. So, one day, before being asked, I went ahead and controlled the narrative, writing myself into the breakout role of a lifetime. I asked! I first them and I asked; HOW DO YOU TAKE YOUR COFFEE? This worked out fine for me until one day, finally I was invited to draw a cup of my very own and really engage in shop talk, open and invited. What a score! Except, How did I take MY own coffee? Desperate to claim this gang of ciggy smoking, coffee drinking, permanent vacationers as my ‘tribe’, I suffered through an insurmountable volume of insipid coffee from bitter to bland, all in hopes that one sip soon I would find my number. And so the lesson began. The onslaught of knowledge of the intricate dance that is swift coffee making and what type is for whom.

A member of my now well curated tribe and I were discussing all the things over the weekend. I say all the things as a way to sum up the type of aimless but vibrant conversation like minds typically find themselves lost in after a few bottles of wine or something. I’m sure you can relate. Anywho, somehow amidst all the topics we landed on coffee talk, and after a lengthy discussion spilling all the beans on the art of coffee and how we take it, I decided to babble on about it in a multi-part blog series. And this was part one. Stay tuned as I get short with you on a beginners guide to ordering the right cup of joe at your next coffee meet.


DISCLAIMER: this series is aimed towards my youngins who’s just breaking in their first pairs of loafers and nude stilettos at their new swanky creative jobs. You know, the ones who are still clinging desperately to the ‘I don’t drink coffee’ spiel.