So I indulged my other passion this week–my other passion besides Scotch, the Real Housewives of NYC, bi-daily naps, and writing: I spent the week designing and creating hats (if you love hats you can see some of my work at redwhinedesign.etsy.com). Then, I attended the Fabricated fashion show to show and sell my wares!
The week, and the show, were both a complete panic, utter mayhem, and blindingly fun.
I met some fantastic, incredibly fashionable people. Got to hang out with my oldest daughter Emma, as well as a good friend, Dale, who came to drink wine and people-watch. And I sold some hats.
There was one woman I’ll never forget. She was about 60 years old, absolutely beautiful, and impeccably dressed. She approached my table with the excitement and conviction of a woman who knows who she is and what she wants (the woman I hope to be someday!).
She went like a radar-guided missile to a chocolate brown pill box with tulle and feathers. She picked it up. She tried it on. And she started to glow.
She literally beamed. She beamed at me. She beamed at her reflection. She beamed at her friend. It was a pretty special moment.
She bought the hat and wore it.
I saw her, later that night, sitting across the runway from me, and she was still beaming.
I struggle with who I am and what I’m suppose to be (besides a occasionally reluctant mom and difficult wife). I make hats, I illustrate, paint, and write poems for a children’s book (my own vanity project), I fiendishly style my husband and kids, and I design, redesign our house regularly (which seldom gets done owing to the fact that my husband refuses to live without a roof for 6 months), so I decorate and redecorate, and I write, and edit, and write, and edit.
I’m sure there’s an artist in me somewhere, and frankly, I’m a little afraid to let her out, but Saturday night, when that beautiful woman put on the hat I’d made, and felt even more beautiful, I knew who I was–if only for a moment–and it felt good. Almost as good as a new hat.