Good afternoon, friends. So it’s my birthday week and I thought it would be fun to share some stories form the past, to show how very far I’ve come.
In 1993, I moved to New York on my birthday from Philadelphia, with a moving fan full of tattooed musicians toting my minimal furniture and big dreams. I did not know my roommate, did not know much about where to live or what to do, but knew I would be sleeping in the living room of a shared one bedroom on the Upper East Side.
It seemed like only seconds had passed before I knew that New York was going to be more than a place. It was going to be my place. It felt familiar and fabulous and somehow, uniquely mine. I loved every minute of being here- from making new friends very quickly to crazy party nights to imagining myself hangliding down Third Avenue. I loved it all, and in the most romantic of ways.
And something else I romanticized was realizing my lifelong dream of working in fashion. As a child, there was little doubt that somehow I’d end up working in fashion- as either a writer or illustrator or possibly a designer. I never realized there were other things. And throughout the years of sharing my love of fashion on this blog, many have asked why it is I never pursued a career there.
And though I started my career journey in New York in advertising (a small agency downtown), my dreams were realized when I somehow landed a job at Donna Karan- my heroine, my idol, my happy place. I was hired to be the assistant to a woman who was Donna’s Director of Inspiration- and you would think with a job that has you traveling the globe running around to flea markets and vintage stores to inspire the boss, you’d be happy. Right? Wrong.
This woman. OMG.
I can only describe her presentation as severe. Jet black bob. Jet black nails. Jet black lips. Only black clothes. Gobs and gobs of jewelry. And what appeared to be a black heart. This woman was so insanely mean to me. If you have ever been to the offices of Donna Karan (of course this was years ago), they are not quite as glam as you may think. From what I recall, we sat with the designers and many, many mice. The space was huge and cavernous and weird. My black death shrouded boss had a rule that whenever her boyfriend Jorge (Jorge was very, very young ps) would call, I had to find her. HAD TO.
This was long before IM, texting, or any other kind of convenient "need you now" systems. When you needed someone, you had to find them. Physically. Imagine that.
So inevitably while I was sorting through Madame's lunch order one day, Jorge rang to say hello. Immediately, I went on the hunt for my boss. And after dodging mouse traps and working up a fierce sweat, I had no luck. She was nowhere to be found.
Dejectedly, I told him I could not find her and I'd have her call him back the second I could. Jorge was charming and sweet about all of it, and most likely relieved that he did not have to speak with her. But just as I was hanging out, in she walked. And when I told her she missed his call, she proceeded to turn into Linda Blair from the "Exorcist". For the next two hours. I sat crouched in the corner shielding myself from her vitriol as she chomped salad and screamed at me. She was a very messy eater. I tried so hard not to cry.
But cry I did, and after that, I quit. There was simply no way I was ready to deal with this level of cuckoo. My glamorous dreams of a life in fashion in New York City quickly turned to fairy dust.
Had I known then that someone like this would never be able to throw me now, perhaps I would have stuck with it. I'm not sure there is a job I would rather have now than inspiring designers to create. If only. Most of us think about the one who got away- in my life, I'd say it was this job. True it could have led me to a lifetime drug addiction or a life chasing the front row of a fashion show dressed as some sort of goth poltergeist, it's hard not to think about how different it all could have been.
And as I look down at my own outfit today- black dress, more than enough jewelry and some outsized glasses, I'm not that far from her look I suppose, which both scares me and makes me laugh. It's true I ended up in advertising and worked with some outsized egos, but generally, people in our crowd are nicer than people in fashion, and that's the truth. Years later, I ran into this boss at a Kabbalah meeting which I reluctantly attended with a friend of mine at Showroom Seven. It was a real moment in time, and if you were in New York in those years when everyone wore a red string bracelet, you know what I mean. Madonna was there. Sandy B. was there. And this lady was there- stretched out on a chaise and looking every bit as bizarre as she did when we first met. It's not surprising she did not remember me- I was the girl who couldn't find her when her cougar prey was calling. I'm sure it was not the first time. And I'm guessing it would not be the last. You try to find someone in that maze of cray, without the benefits of technology. Go ahead.
I'm not sure if this lady is still inspiring Donna, though I have seen pieces about her throughout the years, and now I laugh at the fact I was so terrified of this eccentric Jewish woman who also hailed from Philadelphia, and now as I approach the age she most likely was when I met her, am I really that different than she was? Why did she scare me? Or maybe I was really smart enough to see that a lifetime in fashion would only lead to despair, and admiring it from afar was more my path. I guess what I'm saying is I wish I had some of my strength then that I have now. It's amazing what living a full life can do. And maybe she did inspire me after all, because I think she really did show me a thing or two. She showed me that being a successful woman did not mean yelling at people. Or having a cliched boy toy. Or covering up insecurity with too much jewelry. She showed me that this was not a woman I ever wanted to be, even if it meant having the supposed job of my dreams. It simply wasn't worth it to me.
Now that my birthday approaches and I think about myself no longer the scared, shy person I was, I know that people like this are always there to test you- to test your mettle, your strength, your piece of mind. There will always be challenging people and situations but they throw me less as I get older and have the perspective to cope. I'm not sure I'd tolerate this woman any better today, but my reasons for abandoning ship would probably be different- because every second counts and I don't like to surround myself with people like that. I probably knew that then ps- I just didn't have the confidence to think of it that way or understand that she too, would pass.
Just wanted to share that little moment from my life- I'm not one for nostalgia, but sometimes you can't help and look back as you're moving very much forward. Cause that's what's up this right here, right now kind of Tuesday in New York. Yours, in the devil wore Donna. XO
PS if you are in fashion or follow fashion you may know this woman, who truly was one of a kind. I apologize if you love, worship, or are friends with her. Maybe at this point in my life I would be too, but probably not. Namaste.