FASHION

 

Fashion has always felt alive to me—constantly shifting, evolving, and telling new stories. You can see it in the artistry of a store window, where shoes, handbags, jewelry, and wraps are styled just so, inviting you in. And once inside, it’s not just the clothes that matter—it’s the people. The best shopping experiences come from those who carry themselves with confidence and genuine style, the kind that makes you feel like fashion is really about feeling good in your own skin. It’s even better when they truly know their craft and can guide you with ease.

I recently shared a photo of some of my scarves, and looking at them all together made me realize how much I love variety—colors, patterns, textures, fabrics, little embellishments. Most of them are vintage, many from Italy and India, though a few are newer additions. Each one feels like it carries a bit of history.

My relationship with fashion really began when I was young, shaped almost entirely by my mom. She made most of my clothes, and when I think back on it, what stands out most isn’t just the style—it’s the love behind every stitch. She understood the phases I went through, the stories I wanted to tell about myself, and she helped bring them to life.

In grade school, I was all about horses. I dressed the part too—western shirts with shiny buttons, cowgirl boots, and a favorite white tee with a painted horse’s head. One Christmas, I had a red, black, and white dress trimmed with rickrack that I paired with black knee-high boots. I felt amazing in it.

By junior high, I had wandered into a different world—one inspired by pioneer days and Laura Ingalls Wilder. My dresses had tiny floral prints and fell well below my knees, and my mom made these bright, sleeveless vests to layer over them. It was a softer, quieter kind of style.

High school was a complete shift. Punk had its moment in my life. I wore oversized, distressed sweatshirts and clothes that looked like they’d been splattered with paint—because they often had been. But when it came to prom, I surprised even myself, choosing soft pink chiffon gowns with delicate white lace. I guess I’ve always liked a bit of contrast.

These days, my style is a blend of everything I’ve loved along the way. I lean toward statement pieces and have a soft spot for what I call the “B’s”—bags, blazers, blouses, boots, bracelets. Accessories are my weakness: designer handbags, vintage jewelry, scarves. I’m drawn to texture, to detail, to natural fibers that feel as good as they look.

When I think about it, the fashion industry isn’t all that different from what my mom was doing years ago—designing, choosing fabrics, cutting, sewing, adding those special touches. She may not be making my clothes anymore, but we still share that connection when we shop together.

If there’s one thing all these years of changing styles have taught me, it’s this: the most important thing you can wear is yourself.