My first Kate Spade was lavender. Katy brought it to the townhouse along with banana ice cream while I was expecting the girls. She knew I would never join her for a sweet treat unless pregnant and took advantage of the fact. She was funny like that.
She brought 3 bags for me to choose from – one white, one lavender and one orange. The last one she brought as a joke. She knew that I would never be caught dead with an orange handbag on my arm, though they did suit her. All the quirky and colorful items, which she thought up in that wondrous little head of hers, did.
She also always knew exactly where to draw the line; she never went overboard. That is the why she was so unique. In fashion, there are those who are more crazy than elegant and then there are those, who are more elegant than they are crazy – even though in this industry, you always need to have a bit of both. But Katy was special in that she was equal parts crazy and elegant in everything she wore, designed or approved.
My lavender Kate Spade is the only fashion item from the 90s that I still own. It is also the only item, except for my Chanel suits – you can never go wrong with a Chanel suit – that I would still wear. It is the only thing I might wear again, as those 90s Chanel suits may not exactly fit anymore, despite the fact that I most certainly never indulged in banana ice cream again.
I chose the lavender, and even though I did not go right out and told Katy she was a genius, I did indeed think that she was. I am an editor, I edit, I do not invent. I have rarely designed anything, even though I know that I could. But my interest has always concerned the bigger picture, along with the world of publishing, through which I move like a gazelle or a theatre actress – take your pick. I sort through the jungle of trends, new cuts and old styles, I take acceptable items and put them together in such a way that the magazine looks beautiful, classy, provocative and timely every month.
I make trends and let them disappear. Katy captured the lifestyle of a generation – one that was young or middle-aged during the 90s – and of every single one that has followed since. If I am fashion, she IS handbags. There is hardly any bag on the market today that has not in some way – minor or big – been influenced by Kate Spade.
I enjoyed my lavender, its smooth surface, its clean-cut handles and sweet color. I would buy and receive many Kate Spades thereafter but my first remains my favorite. Well, at least there is one first in my life that has made it to favorite. Isn't that something?
Fashion editor and bitch in heels, even I am not averse to saying that sometimes the personal beats anything else and it is because Katy brought me the bag along with banana ice cream, which we ate through a hundred giggles, while I was pregnant with my girls that it is my favorite.
There was a time in New York when no day would go by without seeing Katy's bags on the arms of society wives walking 5th avenue, on female executives – those bright spots in a sea of dark suits – and next to college girls at Starbucks. I could not have been more proud, for not only were they everything I look for in fashion – beautiful, suitable and endorphin-inducing – but Katy was also the best friend one could have in the fashion and business world. And there is not a lot of those; needless to say that I could count mine on one hand.
I first met Katy at New York Fashion Week when she was Accessories Editor at Mademoiselle and I was – yes, you have guessed correctly – already editor-in-chief of Runway. Despite the fact that she was working for a rival magazine and could have easily become the editor-in-chief of Mademoiselle one day, had she wanted to, I never quite kept my guard up with her. I am always careful but Katy's sense of humor was unpretentious and disarming. I had already fought my way up and I had not do so without learning to see through people. I knew when to keep my mask up – always – and when I could occasionally let it fall.
There was nothing to fear around Katy for she would, candidly and interspersed with jokes at her own expense, tell you all about her life. However, she was never gossipy or indiscrete. I genuinely enjoyed her company. Over brunch or coffee on Saturday afternoons, when I would make time to see one of my few girlfriends, she'd make me laugh so hard that a smile stuck to my face all the way back to the townhouse and into bed at night.
She told me that she wondered about where she wanted to go from there. She was incredibly good at her job but from departmental editor you went to artistic director and from there – if you had it all and gave it all – to editor-in-chief. But that path was of no interest to her and so she ultimately created something new. Something that was the ultimate epitome of her bubbly, funny, classy personality. A lavender Kate Spade, a white Kate Spade, an orange Kate Spade, a fuchsia Kate Spade, a seafoam Kate Spade… you get the picture.
These were more than just bags, they were her and she was the girl who would be loved everywhere from St. Louis to New York and Los Angeles to Atlanta. It was then that I finally understood something, despite having spent many years in the United States already and priding myself on knowing what the All-American girl will want next year before she even knows it herself. I was born in the United Kingdom, where women are revered for quiet elegance. I went on to Paris, where women are loved because their beauty seems effortless. The American woman, I saw now, is adored because she gives it her all, because she is outrageously funny and never shuts up.