“ Dedicated to my mother: Fellow writer, Inspirational woman, & Italian chef extraordinaire Prologue West Nyack, New York Packing My Bags… Is there any reason why I can’t take my entire wardrobe to Italy? I perused my dresser full of vintage clothes, heartbroken to leave any of the gems behind. You’re only going to be gone for two weeks, dummy. I had to remind myself that my pending trip to Rome was strictly business, and I wouldn’t be in the Eternal City for more than a blink of time. Bef...ore I knew it, I would be home sweet home in New York. Still, I hated the thought of leaving my clingy bellbottom pants and white peasant blouse behind. Additional reminders to self: You are not attending a disco party in the 1970’s. You are flying into one of the most fashionable cities on earth to compete in a highly coveted design contest. I sighed, folding lime green jeans, a mauve tee-shirt and high heel boots into my suitcase. Fashion was meant to be flamboyant, not flat. Truthfully, I’d parade around in my goofy retro garb all day and then glide across a marble floor in a chic ballroom gown all night if I could. But for my business trip to Rome, the vivid denims and cotton tee-shirt would have to satisfy my craving for bold couture.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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