Those moments when clothes can succinctly reveal your soul to the world can be so powerful.
In 2003, I bought a pair of Catherine Malandrino black pants ruched below the knee with built-in boot covers from her NY Canyon collection at Century 21. I felt like a badass. A real outlaw. And I was. They were magic pants — fitted, high-waisted, with boot covers to hide my non-existent spurs and whenever I wore them, people would gravitate to me and ask me a spectrum of questions about things they thought I’d know like, “has the best music ever written been already written” or “how did World War I begin” or “what is the password for Milk and Honey?”
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