Every great love affair has a magical, almost ethereal beginning. How they end is a matter of patience, dedication and perhaps a little fairy dust.
My first heart palpitation was at a very tender age. It was that initial fascination that would lead to a lifetime of devotion. As a young child, I was enchanted watching my mother get dressed. And it was then, at those precious moments, that fashion first crawled its way into my heart. If the stories are anything to go by, I began tottering around in her high heels at age 3; apparently, I was a natural, the way I conquered those stairs. But to be fair, my mother has quite petite feet (the perfect size 36; excellent during sales) and high heels weren't nearly quite as high those days.
Like every relationship, we've had our high (the very first Chanel), we've had our lows (tragic denim on denim mistakes), we've had our nasty falls in public and we've also shared that surge of joy at creating that perfect outfit. Through it all, the love remains, even during my dirty affair with ultra low-rise jeans (during the Paris Hilton days; nothing but painful memories)
So, I guess what I'm trying to say is. After all that we've been through, fashion & I.
This is my vow to the one everlasting love of my life.
Ever thine, ever mine, ever ours.