Meet Sumedhaa Kothari | Artist & Misfit

My willingness to try is also the mechanism which allows me to take small, intuitive steps. Like Steve Jobs said, you can only connect the dots looking backward. Hence, the magnitude of my accomplishments is a funny thing to look back on, when I reflect on how unremarkable each small decision felt at the time. An example from a few years ago comes to mind:

I was 27 years old and facing an unexpectedly challenging season: I had left tech six months prior to start testing out my ideas in the art space, when unexpectedly my tenant stopped paying rent. The stress of navigating lawyers, the eviction process, and even my potentially having to declare bankruptcy- all while chasing a dream that had only just started- was so large that a few months in I ended up in the hospital with full-body paralysis. Coming out of the hospital, it seemed to me that the only way to handle this much stress with a different outcome was to try a different way of going about life: so I decided to scrap my entire set of assumptions about how to live and rebuild my framework for what it meant to be alive.

It was unfamiliar territory to substitute productivity for meaning. The process of learning involved slowing down, doing nothing for long stretches, and simply trying to feel what it meant to be alive. This season of questioning taught me two truths about myself and what brought me joy: volunteering at the food bank and making things with my hands. During the darkest days of trial prep, even minor engagement with those two things kept me afloat. It was a season that fundamentally changed me, as the willingness to try something new taught me invaluable lessons about what I need and who I am.

Day by day, as I built a new structure for myself, balancing legal battles with creating wearable art and doing service work, my ambition towards building a more inclusive and sustainable model for a wearable art business slowly resurfaced. And one day while walking home from a local coffee chat, a sign for upcycled clothing outside of a store on Sunset Boulevard caught my attention. I’d never seen upcycled clothing promoted so proudly so I walked in, introduced myself to the owner, and asked her how she found the confidence to pursue her dream. One thing led to another and we began taking regular walks around the neighborhood and swapping stories about the journey of bringing a vision to life.

Before I knew it, a month had flown by, and those conversations led her to offering me an opportunity I had dearly wanted pre-hospitalization: the chance to feature the wearable art I was so passionate about, by opening up a new store with her in Melrose Place. My artist friends, who’d supported me through those tough months, rallied around the clock for me, driving to my home with their pieces, painstakingly tagging our inventory, helping me set the space up, and promoting the store- in a dedicated flurry of manual labor and sheer determination. And as soon as we opened, we were rewarded with the gratification that LA loved what we made. Without even realizing it, those months of reflection, slow creation, and conversation had culminated in what felt like overnight success: a storefront featuring my own collective, F.A.M (For Artists and Misfits). It was an experience that taught me the value of being humble enough to keep trying no matter how unremarkable each day felt, because it was only the act of trying that could eventually evolve into something great.

What I Do: I make things with my hands. Most often, I take unusual materials – things that have been dumped or discarded – and give them new life as wearable art. This is otherwise known as upcycling, and I’ve been fortunate to discover a deep, treasured world of upcycled clothing and artists, all over the world from LA, to Seattle, to New York, to London etc.

My abilities themselves have grown dramatically in the 3 years that I have been creating wearable art. What began as a 52-week challenge – repurposing waste into wearable garments while working full-time as an engineer – has become a full immersion into becoming as talented as I can as an artist, increasing the precision of my skill set, the thoughtfulness of my craftsmanship, the bounds of my creativity, and the inclusivity of my pieces. Along the way, I’ve had incredible experiences: making a dress entirely from seaweed for Yamila Saud, photographed by Jack Guy and turned into NFTs to generate charitable funds for the water crisis in Vera Cruz; creating pieces with donations from local artists like Sami Hayek and Vision Toussaint; and learning how to grow through friendships with a diverse group of talented creatives such as Tiel Bowers (photography), Yohan Ettiene (embroidery), Brya Pettaway (fabric), Dana Flanagan (accessories), and Rah Drip (community). My world, and my creations, would not have evolved without these artists.

After losing my home in the Los Angeles wildfires, my world shifted overnight from the world of art and towards the immediate need for a sufficient place to live. Losing nearly all of my possessions in the flash of an eye, and living off of donations for a period of time filled me with feelings of failure and shame that I thought would put an end to my drive to create. However, the desire to honor the support of others by appreciating that which I was lucky enough to still have led me to create jars and trays and boxes out of resin so they could be stored in all their glory in my new space. As I turned my handiness toward learning about the medium of resin, I developed a sense of agency again, as well practice towards engaging with the belief that I could make beautiful things again. This unexpected affinity for working with resin quickly expanded into creating a range of things from buttons to purses- allowing me to continue to build on an invaluable sense of self-efficacy at a time when life felt full of nothing but uncertainty. While I continue to navigate the mountains of paperwork required by FEMA and my insurance company, this new skill set has opened up encouraging opportunities in Seattle, inviting me to share my creations in a new community of mission-driven boutiques, and galleries.

What I sell: When I left tech in 2023, my goal was to provide a new model of exchange with wearable art, that challenged the traditional relationship between clothing and its disposability. I further substantiated this intuition, via my podcast (The Why Intercept) which allowed me to deeply research and synthesize why society has a pattern of engaging with clothing, art, prices, trends, storytelling, and sustainability, in detrimental and cognitively dissonant ways. It led to my appreciation for the incontrovertible value held by these pieces, in part by the virtue of them being the only one in existence, as well as having a smaller environmental footprint both due to the way they are created as well as the reduced disposability inherent to their quality and functionality.  As such, my entrepreneurial goal has been to recontextualize how people interact with what we make, increasing their joy and appreciation for what they purchase, as well as the financial reward and exposure for the self-taught creatives who are imaginatively redefining who we are through what we wear.

The most recent version of my solution for this, is a reputation-based membership model that would allow for a more affordable exchange of pieces between artists and patrons. I have no delusions this model is the end all be all, as the flexibility to update my priors has allowed me to test out a number of previous iterations. Previous solutions involved an online rental marketplace (borrowed//by.sume), sharing pieces on consignment and at auction, selling through a gallery (F.A.M. at Garel Gallery in Manhattan Beach) and managing a physical location (F.A.M. Collective in Melrose Place)- to name a few. This slow iterative process over the years has been in part due to my research-based disposition as well as my low risk tolerance- forcing me to move cautiously and responsibly shoulder the financial burden of experimentation. The results of the most recent public-facing projects I’ve created to test my business hypothesis have been invaluable and have each reconfirmed the potential of this approach in unique ways. And while my unexpected displacement from the fires once threatened to knock me off my path towards improving the commerce around what we make and how it’s valued, I’m slowly picking up the pieces of my previous experiments to find a new path forward again.

Before I begin, however, an important note: the recent wildfires have meant that some of the incredible places I’ve loved are no longer accessible or even still standing. While it has been a tough reality to contend with, the experience of displacement has given me a profound appreciation for the public resources that still remain in LA. Seriously, compared to other states, the generosity is truly exceptional in this city, and I hope any visitor has the good fortune to enjoy them- for my sake!

The Libraries: First and foremost, the libraries. They are an absolute blessing. The Glendale Public Library, for example, isn’t just large and peaceful, but also provides a free public maker space with sewing machines, 3D printers, sound equipment etc- which is available to the public every day. Similarly, the West Hollywood Library is an architectural gem and the Pacific Palisades Library (RIP) was a haven of solitude with incredible workshops (kimchi making, metal bookmark pressing anyone?!) to engage with learning during even the most monotonous of days. I highly suggest a visit to these often overlooked gifts of centralized knowledge and discovery.

Walks and Hikes: The Downtown LA Walking Tour is magnificently guided and has introduced me to both stories and streets I never knew  existed. For a hike, the Runyon Canyon West Trail (not the paved road, people!) is strenuous and has a great view that makes it all worth it. And finally- once it becomes accessible again- the Los Leones Hiking Trail between Pacific Palisades and Malibu, is the rarest of hikes due to it’s lush tree cover (LA could never), insane view, and troves of salamanders, beatles, snails, bull frogs, rabbits etc. all of whom, frankly, I cannot wait to hang out with again.

Volunteering: Places like the BAGC Lincoln Heights Foodbank or Casa Milagrosa have a warmth that speaks to the true ethos of LA – dare I suggest, more than a rooftop bar ever could. This is where I have met some of the most inspiring people in this city who I am lucky enough to now call close friends. To find the experience that suits you best, I highly recommend checking out laworks.com for opportunities for involvement.

Bookstores: The Last Bookstore is one of my favorite places on the planet Earth, and is full of character and simple pleasures to get lost in. It makes me feel instantly more human by connecting me to thousands of years of both real and imagined experimentation – just by virtue of being standing there. And if you have the flexibility, go with a full day so you can stop by Grand Central Market for any meals required in between your reading. I cannot speak more highly of this play other than to share… It’s how I chose to spend a blissful Christmas Eve last year.