John remained quiet and uncharacteristically uninquisitive on the chilly winter afternoon as we crossed Park Avenue and headed east on 60th Street. In the two years I had known him, we had done this walk to his favorite Chinese lunch spot countless times, often debating the merits of what we had eaten the previous visit. These discussions usually consisted of John asking me a litany of questions about my meal: “What did you get? Did they pan fry the noodles? In vegetable or sesame oil? Was it spicy? What kind of seasoning do you think they used?” This went on and on until John could write a dissertation about my lunch.

John’s penchant for the socratic method didn’t end with food. If he took an interest in something, be it paddle boarding or historically accurate pocket details for WWII field jackets, his inquiries would not relent until he knew everything there was to know about it. I’ve often heard that the brightest people ask the most questions. I don’t know if that statement holds true but I do know that John’s curiosity has not only made him very good at his job as a clothing designer but also the best mentor a neophyte in the field could hope for. John taught me what garments should look like and then showed me how they could look. The open dialogue he invited and encouraged about the clothing we designed allowed me to give and form my own opinions as well as make plenty mistakes. This dialogue not only yielded better garments but also better friends.

The bitter December wind pushed me backwards as we made our way towards the restaurant. This time we weren’t talking food. I had been approached by my favorite designer with a dream job offer to become his #2. I would get to work on all product categories and frequently travel to Italy and Sweden for design trips. I then told John that I didn’t know what to do. I was happy where I was. I loved working with him and our team and I couldn’t begin to thank him enough for what he had taught me. I would love to work with this designer but I wasn’t sure I was ready to leave. What should I do?

He looked at me, pausing for a moment to put up his hood, and said, “I don’t think you have a choice. You don’t get to choose when opportunity finds you.”