Life Outside the Lines.

On my new job at Disney and why a career path shouldn't stay in a lane.

As an artist, they asked why I applied to law school.

The morning after I took the bar exam, they wondered why I was going into fashion.

Once I was a streetwear designer, they were confused as to why I’d start a food festival.

Decades into being a business owner, they laughed that I’d want to write screenplays.

After I sold a TV pilot, they couldn’t fathom why I’d want to write another book.

And as a founder and entrepreneur, they’re questioning why I’d work for another company.

My entire life, I’ve been sitting at the wrong table, dressing the wrong way, and breaking expectations of what I should or shouldn’t be. I was the Asian kid who was into nonnormative subcultures like skateboarding and punk music. I was the streetwear guy with a J.D. The writer with a design background. Along the way, I’ve been met with curiosity, scorn, and doubt. “Are you lost?”

But it’s all been crystal-clear to me.

A couple weeks ago, we brought on some new hires at The Hundreds. Our new Marketing guy, Darrick, asked if he could speak with me on his first day.

“You know,” he said, as we stood out back of the warehouse by the skate ramp, “When people found out that I was moving in-house to work in the office, they had a lot to say.” Darrick was not only one of our shop staff, but he’s a skilled photographer and freebird creative. The peanut gallery had been loud and noisy. “But, when I listened to myself, I knew I was making the right choice.”

I’ve fielded a spectrum of responses to the news that I’m now a Disney executive. The majority have been kind and supportive, but there have also been some surprising reactions and unwarranted feedback. At first, I was taken aback by a cynical opinion or a dash of skepticism. “Why would you leave success there to come here?” They couldn’t follow why I’d prioritize curiosity over prosperity. But then, I remembered that my moves have been making people uncomfortable for years.

People see you how they see themselves. For many, the idea of toggling between lunch tables, veering off a predetermined career track, or eluding categorization feels wrong. I’ve been a part of subcultures that were founded on rebellious principles, yet they enforced some of the most rigid rules on ideology, style, and association. It really upset some of those adherents when I’d color outside the lines. But for me, the lines were suggestions, and it was up to the artist to draw their own.

Most of my closest friends, however, know how I operate and are excited to see where I journey next. Last night, Matt congratulated me and remarked, “It takes a lot of balls to switch lanes like this.” Well, I only have two like the rest of my counterparts, but I do think it takes a bit of noise-cancellation to hear yourself these days. And maybe that is some form of bravery in the groupthink era. So much of our validation has become extrinsic because of social media Likes and crowdsourced trends. I suggest switching off of auto-pilot whenever you can and swerving across the highway. The Internet isn’t the only terrain fenced in by algorithms – much of our behavior and life decisions are guided by patterns and traditions, customs and expectations. But when you take a hard turn and off-road into the wilderness, you find surprise, growth, and adventure.

This week, I proudly accepted a role as the Vice President of Creative for Disney Consumer Products. I’ll lead Disney’s licensed and theme park creative teams for the Americas (clothing, toys, apps, books, console games, and other merchandise). If I hadn’t studied Intellectual Property law, I wouldn’t have been equipped to shoulder the weight of the Disney brand. Running high-profile collabs for two decades granted me expertise in licensing deals. Writing books and screenplays landed me square in the studio and entertainment space. Designing and operating six brick-and-mortar stores offered me critical insight into Disney retail buildouts. And collecting cards, designing vinyl figures, and minting digital collectibles, provided everything I needed to know about toys and collector culture.

If I’d stayed in my lane as a clothing designer, I wouldn’t be able to fulfill this role. Like a video game where you pick up weapons and assets along the way, everything was preparation for now. Everything was a prologue for this next chapter. My career is a sentence that runs on, a paragraph that falls off the page, a story without a period. Life can’t be contained by a binding and a cover, as long as you keep writing from within. You will discover that the world has no edges, the universe just keeps going on and on forever.

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photograph by Lindsey Byrnes