Achieving dreams with Nicole Miller by my side

This is an essay I wrote for ELLE on one fashion item that changed my life. It wasn't chosen so I'm sharing it with you now.

I had this wild dream when I was little that I was going to move to New York City from Portland, Oregon to become a magazine editor. Years later I made it, with a little help from Nicole Miller.

When I was 16 my mom and I took a trip to NYC — it was my second visit but her first. I knew I loved this city but it was my chance to share that love with my mom, whom I’m very close with, and show her the city I would one day live in.

As we strolled through SoHo we stumbled upon the Nicole Miller boutique. Anything designer seemed like a foreign world to me — it represented an elite society that I longed to be a part of but felt so detached from. I grew up comfortably, not knowing much about finances, and believed we were well off (we were). But Nicole Miller wasn’t in our budget.

I fell in love with a dress immediately and the sales associates treated me like royalty as I tried it on in a massive dressing room. It was a body-hugging strapless dress that was mostly gold in color with hints of olive green and red wine. The fabric was crinkled and a sash attached at the bust could be wrapped around to tie in the back or made into a halter. With the help of several credit cards, my mom bought it for me. I felt so sophisticated at 16.

Now that I’m 23, it’s been through a lot. I wore it on Christmas. I wore it to prom with the guy I first loved. I couldn’t zip it up my back anymore by the end of senior year because I gained too much muscle from swimming, but it stayed in my closet — reminding me of my ­dream to move to NYC.

I lent it to a friend of mine who loved fashion so I knew she would take good care of it. Plus the color was perfect for her dark skin tone. But it became time for me to leave for my first year of college at Syracuse University and I still didn’t have it back. After relentlessly trying to contact her, I flew across the country without Nicole Miller.

It wasn’t until two years later that my best friend and I showed up at her doorstep to retrieve Nicole Miller. She wasn’t home and her mom seemed clueless. I marched into her room and found Nicole Miller in a crumpled mess on the floor. ON THE FLOOR.

She had also SEWN the sash into straps. You just don’t alter Nicole Miller, especially WITHOUT permission. Luckily, one of my friends is a design student and was able to easily fix it for me. I sent that girl a very rude text message (with no response) and haven’t spoken to her since.

I kept it in my closet at home away from the dangers of college. But whenever I came home I tried it on to see if I could fit in it. No luck, especially after the keg parties at college. It still brought inspiration — I would stare at it and dream of another life in NYC. My mom was laid off and unemployed so times were tough. It wasn’t that I didn’t like Portland, but I felt stuck every time I went home, surrounded by people who weren’t doing anything with their lives. I dreamed of something better. A life full of fashion, impeccably dressed New Yorkers, and after-work cocktails.

After I graduated college I went home, jobless, like much of the graduating class of 2012. I had one hopeful interview that didn’t get anywhere. At the end of that summer I was still jobless and broke, but still determined to move. So I landed an unpaid internship and booked a plane ticket two weeks later. Nicole Miller did not come with me; I would be crashing on a friend’s couch until I found an apartment so I brought as little as possible, and she still didn’t fit me.

The first few months were tough, but I was in NYC heaven.  I woke up every day on an air mattress and commuted an hour to my internship with a smile on my face. I worked a full-time job in retail alongside the internship. I was broke, had little time to eat, and walked all over the concrete jungle. I lost about 15 pounds.

My aunt bought me a last-minute plane ticket and I flew home Christmas morning to surprise my mom. She sobbed into my shoulders. She took notice of my skinny body that was dressed in clothes two sizes too big. We held onto each other all day as I ate everything in sight.

That night I opened my closet and saw Nicole Miller. What if she fit again? It had been several years since I quit swimming and my back was smaller. I slid her on and pulled the zipper — all the way up. She fit perfectly. Possibly even more than when I was 16. I looked just as sophisticated — but no longer naïve; I looked ready to take on the world in my one designer piece. I flew back to NYC three days later with Nicole Miller by my side.