I am often asked how or why I got into fashion. For me it was not an obvious choice for a career. I loved dressing my dolls and coming up with new creative styles for them, I use to actually make clothes for my poor dog and make her model them while I took photos. I liked the process of picking my clothes out the night before school. I thought this was the same for everyone.
I think when you are kid, whether you are fascinated by the guitar, or reading, or science, you don't realize that you actually like it more than most others. So when I went to college I chose a safer more guaranteed path, or so I thought. I was definitely the most styled and trend focused of my colleagues, granted the "key" pieces to my wardrobe consisted of express, limited and other mall purchases. I had a talent for pulling pieces together but no reference for true design
Until one day...I was in Italy, working. I flew into Milan, I had never been to Italy and was required to be there for 3 months or longer. Oh what fate! After checking in to my hotel I decided to spend my Saturday afternoon strolling the streets of Milan, sure I had heard of the fashion houses, but it was not my vocabulary.
I window shopped, I looked around, and then quite out of nowhere this beautiful building appeared with simple silver letters P-R-A-D-A on a black awning. I was mesmerized. I was so transfixed by the window display that I am sure my jaw actually dropped to the ground. I had all of these feelings, I was rushed with warmth, I had butterflies in my stomach as I stepped across the threshold, my heart was beating rapidly, I started to perspire.
I heard of this happening, but never thought it would happen to me. It was love at first site. As I approached the first rack of clothing I felt breathless. Brocade, soft silky prints, the most beautiful, exquisite works of art were awaiting my touch. I so obediently obliged and in a whirl of wine, and hours of trying on every imaginable piece I could, I bought half the collection. The brocade dress, pants, skirt, jacket and top. The pajama print skirt and blouse, shoes, jackets, oh my god!
I left feeling exhausted and elated, I needed a cigarette. When I got back to the hotel I laid out each piece, admiring them individually and together, fantasizing about our future together. Prada has since become a fixture in my life, just like a good partner. When I'm down her shining gold threads still make me smile. The relationship is just like any other, some seasons it's amazing and breathtaking, and other seasons it's like she doesn't know me at all.
Prada taught me about fit and design, the importance of fabric choices. The experience transformed the way I saw fashion. No more clothes just to fill an empty closet, but rather pieces that made me look and feel like the woman I am inside.
More than a decade after our first joyous meeting, Prada is the first runway show I review, the first place I go for inspiration as a designer, the first place I turn to in my own wardrobe. My only wish for her is that she wasn't so far from me. And now here she is, opening a store in South Coast Plaza next year, just for me (well okay for everyone).
Thank you, Prada. I love you.
