We both smile as I return to my task, squatting on the floor as I ready myself to reapproach the jungle of tulle. I’m surprised when Mira moves to the opposite end of the closet and starts untangling overlapping hangers. I shouldn’t be surprised, though, since every interaction I’ve had with her has proved her to be a thoughtful, stay-and-help kind of person.
“Now, tell me, how have you enjoyed your time at Gia Luca so far?”
“I’ve been loving it,” I tell her. “I can’t even imagine what it must feel like to work here for real. How long have you been here?”
“About five years now,” she answers.
“That’s incredible. And always in logistics?”
She nods. “I wish I could have been a designer, but I never had the talent. I’m a terrible artist.”
“I doubt that. And even if it’s true, you don’t necessarily have to be an artist to be a designer.” I stand again to stretch out my legs as I then opt to rehang an appliquéd asymmetrical gown that was squished between two other dresses. It has a mini-slip lining and a pale orchid overlay, and I feel like I should be wearing it while playing an emotive piece on the cello or running through a palace maze. Personally, I’m game for either option.
“It’s not just that,” Mira says, pulling me out of my ball gown backstories. “I can’t envision clothes in my head the way you can. You all can sit with a notepad and get material and make something out of nothing. I’m the type of person who loves the creative process but can never quite touch it. So instead, I work around it. I’m good with numbers and understanding trends in the market, and it helps that I’m passionate about what I’m selling.”
“And are you happy working here?” I ask.
“For now, I am. I was excited to be made assistant head, but it can be frustrating when the person who’s the actual head of logistics barely contributes. I’ve been doing his job for years. So yes, for the time being, I’m happy, but I’m always on the lookout for more. I suppose that makes me selfish.”
“That doesn’t make you selfish at all,” I tell her. “If you want more, why shouldn’t you have it?”
Mira grins. “Maybe you’re right. In any case, it’s good to have dreams. Life would be so boring without them.” She pauses for a moment, just looking at the clothes before untangling the hangers once again. “And what are some of your dreams, Violet?”
I think about it for a second and several ideas fight to the forefront until just two remain. “Well, of course the ultimate goal is to start my own fashion line. I love the idea of working for myself and being my own boss. And as for another dream, I guess it would be to make my parents proud of me.”
“You don’t think they’re proud of you now?” she asks.
“I think to some extent they are, but I also think we value different things. They want me to be happy, but financial security is the most important thing to them. They worked their whole lives so my sister and I could go to college and have a better life than what they had, and here I am, choosing to enter a business that’s outrageously competitive and where even people with tons of talent still don’t make it. I can see why they want something else for me and it makes me feel so guilty that I can’t give them that. At least not right now.”
“I’m sure they understand,” Mira tells me, pulling a sweater off the rack and flattening out the sleeves. “And even if they don’t, at least you know they feel the way they do because they love you. I wish I had overbearing parents around to stress me out. My father is from the US. He moved back there when I was three and still works on Wall Street. I see him a few times a year when I go over to visit. The last time he was in Italy was for my mother’s funeral. She passed away two years ago.”
“I’m so sorry,” I find myself saying, not knowing what else to offer. It doesn’t feel like enough.
“It’s okay. My mother and I were everything to each other, and she was over the moon that I was going into fashion. It was always a huge part of our lives. And when I said I wish I was one of those people who had talent, she was one of those people who had it.”
“She was a designer?” I ask.
“She owned a small boutique, but it seemed like everyone in our world was connected to fashion in one way or another. My mother would design a little on the side, and she had a real eye for finding the best pieces. Whatever she bought or ordered for the store would fly off the racks in a matter of days. If she were here, maybe I would be running the store with her now. That had been one of my dreams, too. My dad said if I ever did want to start the business up again, he would back me, but I don’t know. I don’t think it would feel right without her.”
Mira smiles then, and it’s tinged with sadness and longing. This wasn’t one of her small dreams. It was a big one.
“I’m sure your mom would be proud of you, though. If you reopened the boutique.”
“Maybe,” she says quietly. Then she shakes her head, like she’s trying to push aside whatever thought she was about to drift away in. “I was also wondering, and please feel free to ignore me, but I couldn’t help but notice that you’re a little older than most of our usual interns. Is there a reason you arrived late to the party?”
At least she came up with a creative way to ask. And for the first time in a long time, I genuinely don’t mind answering.
“I guess what it comes down to is that I put my life on hold. I was in love and with someone, but it didn’t work out. And once we were over, I figured I could either look at the time I wasted and be resentful about it, or I could look at that time and use it as the fuel I needed to put myself first and to go after what I want.”
“That’s a very brave way of looking at things,” she says. “Not everyone would do that.”
“I betyouwould,” I tell her.
She gives me a smile, but it’s bittersweet. “I hope I would. Anyway, I’m sorry to have bothered you for so long. Here you’re trying to work, and I barge in with questions and telling you all about my depressing past.”
“You didn’t bother me at all,” I insist. “And please feel free to come and hang out anytime.”
“I will,” she says, heading for the exit and pausing to turn around once she reaches the doorway. “And you’re always welcome to visit the logistics team, too. We’re not the most thrilling department, but we’ve got personality.” With that, she gives me a wave and disappears out to the offices, leaving me nostalgic and hopeful in an unexpected way.
