Dear Kate,

It has been a couple of days, and I think that there is something that I would like to say. It is no secret that I put great care into how I look, not out of vanity, but rather, out of creativity and personal choice. I feel more comfortable in skirts and dresses. I prefer to have my makeup fully done. I simply feel half dressed if I wear "comfortable" clothing or rush out the door without so much as mascara and lipstick. As I have said before, this mindset often makes me feel like I'm strange or standing out, but there have always been a few sources of inspiration that remind me that it is ok and someday, maybe, I'll be admired for it.

One of these such icons was Kate Spade. Generally, celebrity deaths do not sadden me. I did not personally know the person. Nor did I really keep up with their day to day lives. I know them through TV screens or magazine covers--things that I can easily rewatch and make them alive again. But as the dust (or perhaps glitter would be more fitting) settled, I realized just who or what I would be missing in this world because of Kate's untimely death.

I remember discovering Kate Spade, stumbling across ads that included dogs jumping out of bags, girls carrying wicker purses shaped like frogs, and dresses embellished with flamingos. I fell in love right then. I had never seen a brand like it before. It was fashionable and polished and profession but so fun and flirty and girly in all the best ways possible. Her clothes were always like a celebration, a breath of fresh air or burst of confetti on editorial pages.

I dreamt of carrying one of her handbags or someday owning a dress. Her clothes took all of those classic silhouettes that I loved and placed them in the realm of modern fashion. I remember the first Kate Spade items I ever owned, two very close to each other. My aunt gave me a pink cardholder when I got my license. I remember feeling so important and special when I unwrapped the green tissue paper. I had something that was designer--that was mature. And my mom, sale savvy and always wanting to surprise my, gave me a sparkly rose gold wallet for those days when I was driving somewhere and needed a few extra cards and dollars. I felt like I was moving up in the world. All of the stories from women across the world this past week have shown that every woman felt like me. Getting something that was Kate Spade meant something. The culmination of growing into myself came this last Christmas. I now had a few wallets and a tote that I used when I wanted to feel more polished or needed to impress, but this year I got that final item that signified being an adult. I had started college and lived on my own far from home. I had proven that I could stand my own ground. And now I had a tangible symbol for this: a navy Kate Spade bag with shimmering polka dots. This a purse that I will carry for a long time, an investment piece. And it now feels all them more special, as it stands for a creative mind I continue to admire.

Kate Spade was all of those things to me. She was also someone I wanted to become. She was like a vintage girl in the public eye. She proudly sported beehives and tights with mules. She wore colorful statement jewelry without hesitation. She created a line of fashion that was both vintage and modern. She was chic. She reintroduced everything that I love about clothing into the world during a time of trends that favored grays and grunge.

Thank you, Kate, for showing me how to be comfortable in pink polka dots around a sea of pinstripes.

Love,
Christina

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