Before we get into the nitty gritty business of fashion icons, I want to relate a very disconcerting story.
I just caught my cat (Mirko, the boy one_ trying to smuggle a dead mouse in from the porch (in his mouth). So I grabbed him and carried him back out- but somehow between getting him from the kitchen to the porch he dropped the mouse. And now neither of us can find it. He’s looking a shard as I am. In fact, as I’m typing this he’s still wandering around somewhat bereft.
I can’t imagine that being a situation Grace Kelly ever had to deal with.
Call them my sartorial inspiration, if you like.
The fact is, every period of my life and ‘stage of my style identity’ has had a different mascot connected to it.
Some more embarrassing than others. Continue reading “A Chronology of My Style Crushes”