The American designers I mentioned in the previous post are Sandy Dalal and Cliff Fong. I had never met Sandy before, which is not at all surprising, considering the lack of convergence in our histories.
By the age of twenty-one, Sandy had earned the Perry Ellis Award for Best New Menswear Designer and been named to People Magazine's "Most Beautiful" list.
At a similar age, I was working for the Copper River Fishermen’s Co-op in Cordova, Alaska. I’m sure there were some beautiful people there, but it was hard to tell under all that fish slime and raingear.
Cliff and I, by coincidence, are brothers. Nine years separate our birthdays, which means that in the month he entered kindergarten, I left our upstate New York home for boarding school in Ohio. After our parents divorced, Cliff moved with our mother to Utah, increasing the geographical distance between us.
What’s my point? I’m not sure at this moment in the story, but perhaps this: Although the facts of our births are similar, the accidents of our upbringings are not.