The fashion designer had a sense of how to dress women, both cute and sexy all at the same time. They were the kind of clothes that gave all women confidence, wearable by women of all shapes and heights. She somehow blended feminism with femininity, and did so with an imagination comparable to Dr. Seuss.
The fashion designer had one of those perfect souls, both fully childish and fully adult all at the same time. You could see it in the way her eyes moved, how her hands embraced the fabric, and I believe you could sense how the fabric of the universe embraced her in response.
The artist lives bravely with their real emotions at the surface, and that was true of every fashion designer I ever met. There was a passion that flowed in their veins, one that needed to become an expression in the real world, as deeply communicative as any other form of art.
The fashion designer was an artist, you could see that. The artist has a form of emotional clarity that extends into their art form to become a beautiful message for the subconscious brain. It was a message of elevated hope, of cherishing the human form, of saying we are worthy of living our dreams together in a cohesive and emboldened society.
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