Little mishaps can remind us of what is strongest inside.
I was on my way to the Carlyle Hotel where I was to be photographed for an article by Lynn Yaeger for The New York Times about women, like myself, who have their own distinct style and how we came to it.
As I walked up Madison Ave., I felt the tear. The snap of the collar of my cheongsam had come undone; with it, my equilibrium, well-being and serenity. “What an inconvenient time!” “Now what?” I knew that I had to have the snap repaired – immediately. I knew that if I didn’t the imperfection would tear away at me, and that my time at the Carlyle would be totally ruined. I needed a tailor and I needed one now. I had a grand total of 20 minutes.
I quickly assessed the situation. The Ralph Lauren store was a few blocks away and I knew they had tailors on the premises. With determination and resolve, I quickly made my way up to the store, found my favorite sales associate, Michael and within minutes one of the tailors was sewing my snap. I relaxed into the ease and familiarity of allowing him to do his work. Ten minutes later, and right on time, I entered the Carlyle, totally restored and bursting with confidence. I was whole again.
Therein is the key to my strong distinct style. My father, Itzhak Izidore Salamon was a tailor; my mother, Ida Dina Berner was a seamstress. They made all my clothes. I grew up surrounded by the richness and color of cloth and design and I adored getting dressed.
And from day one I was the best dressed girl in town. Fast forward to today when I still adore getting dressed. Nothing thrills me more than opening up my closets and feasting my eyes on my huge collection of amazing antique clothes – Victorian, Edwardian, 20’s and ethnic Chinese, Japanese and Persian. It is this connection to beautiful, one-of-a-kind clothes and tailors and dressmakers that keeps me rooted and reminds me of my origins and roots and the fabric of my being.
Court Artisan: Tziporah Salamon