Tracy Reese in My Life.
Okay, now, before anyone goes all Clark Griswald, Christmas Vacation kidnapping Tracy Reese, wrapping her in a big, red bow and delivering her on my doorsteps, let me explain my infatuation. Oh, and if you just happen to run across her, and she’s all-too-willing to let you so elegantly wrap her in a bow (make it purple), and go along on a little road trip to Casa King-Sanchez, well, thanks for hooking a sister up.
Tracy Reese could design a paper bag made from steel wool and I’d still rock it hard. And I’m not talking about a paper bag-pleated waistline. I mean a Bloomingdale’s-Big-Brown-Bag, Trader-Joe’s, Chinese-Food-delivery, grease-stains-on-the-bottom, brown-not-white paper bag. Ms. Reese, if this post by some miracle gets to you, all I ask is that you name the Steel Wool/Bag Dress after me. You know, something like… Tracy.
Anyway, why must I have Tracy Reese in my life? And I do mean MUST. Because she is the art, and sweat, and drive, and dream-beyond-expectations visionary I want to see in the world. That, and her clothes make me feel so damn pretty.
I’ve never been a designer labels kind of chick. I’m horrible with names, sometimes forgetting my own children’s. Sears & Roebucks was the brand I rocked as a child. Slim, Toughskins in particular. However, most of my clothes were homemade, something I was too young and stupid to appreciate. I would give anything to have a high-quality, hand-cut, meticulously-sewn, fit-to-precision, made-just-for-me piece of clothing. Some day, some day.
I came late to fashion and, by late, I mean somewhere between yesterday and today. I grew up believing that purchasing clothes with anything other than a Sears label was a big waste of time and money. Thrifty and fashion were synonymous. In fact, I still believe in a good bargain. My first trip to Paris back in 2012 opened me up to fashion. The Marais section of Paris became my fashion school and continues to offer lessons with each visit I make.
In 2014, I discovered a little gem of a place in Cobble Hill, Brooklyn. Neda’s Boutique. This is where I gained my first introduction to Tracy Reese, and I mean that literally (thank you, Kate! She’s the one standing next to the two Tracys). Here is where I’m able to get my Tracy Reese fix on, and then some.
My most recent trip to Paris had me studying fashion with more of a critical eye. I was fortunate enough to receive lessons and fashion history from designers and sales people who have spent years in the industry with such names as Hermes, Lancel, Louis Vuitton, Richard James, Stella McCartney, Mui Mui, Moynat, just to name a few. I learned about the process of designing and marketing. I learned about the history of certain iconic brands. I learned to appreciate the artistry and craftsmanship of certain designers. I learned to see beyond the spectrum of colors, the feel of fabric and to trust in my own tastes. I’ll share a few of my favorite brands in upcoming posts, but for now…
Why I Need Tracy Reese.
She reminds me that smiling frees up my creativity.
She reminds me that vision is art and art is meant to be shared with the world.
She reminds me that it is alright to dream in color. In fact, it’s necessary.
She reminds me that to step outside the comfort zone is to step inside endless possibilities.
Above all, she reminds me to be fierce.
Oh, and look what I got my eye on…
