17 years old,

I walked into the Missoni boutique and was in awe. I was in the presence of such beautifully-crafted pieces. I scanned until I had the nerve to touch, the way I usually do when examining clothing. That’s what it is I decided: an examination. (Grammatically correct? Probably not.) Everything was made with such great detail and such amazing fabric. I was seventeen years old. The salesman asked if I had wanted to try anything on. I couldn’t imagine a Missoni dress on me and looking in the mirror wearing something that cost almost $1,400. Out of sheer terror I declined and turned on my heel. Next door was Roberto Cavalli.