fashion armor, from my most fashionable friends

the items that give us an extra layer of self-preservation

My 2 year old daughter locked the door to our bathroom the other Tuesday morning. I was standing in pilled sweats on the other side of the door, worried about her, of course, but also equally worried that if the unlocking took too long or required a professional, I would have no access to my closet before I had to be at work.

I work in brand image. And I have control issues. Which is probably why I look at putting together an outfit with such euphoria. It’s the one moment where I can shape who I want to be, isolated from the hurling realities of the day (a locked closet, a metaphorical office dumpster fire, traffic on Sunset) simply weighing if I like what this low heeled Phoebe Philo loafer may project about me (a rare original, can read a room, cool, moves through her day with ease).

I had a big meeting that afternoon, with a semi-stranger who also happened to hold a good amount of sway over my career, followed by the kind of cocktail party where I could know everyone or no one. It w…