This Day was Not the NORMa

This is a very emotional post for me to write, since it involves meeting an idol of mine, the formidable fashion icon, Norma Kamali. I have always been a starstruck person, not because of the fame factor, but because of the sheer talent factor. When I'm in the same shared airspace as a supremely gifted human, something I've experienced most at concerts, I cannot get over that I AM IN THE SAME RADIUS AS THIS PERSON.   I breathe in the air deeper, I want to infuse my lungs with their superpowers. I need to receive what they were put on this planet to offer. I appreciate skill of any kind.

When I first started to really cook when I was 21, I'd stand in the butcher shop watching the butchers skillfully cut the meat. It is always riveting, observing any specific skill set. It's craftsmanship at its best. I want in. It could stem from my need to discover what it is that my own specific skill set is, as well as a deep appreciation for talent, intention, and focus. The notion that whatever you're doing, do it well. Pure intentions yielding pure results, even if you're sweeping a floor.

This is the backstory: About a year and a half ago, I was walking around midtown in NYC, and passed the Norma Kamali flagship. I was instantly grabbed by the clean, artsy, insanely impactful mannequin display in the window. It was a brigade of stark white, faceless mannequins, somehow fierce in their lack of facial features, wearing various all black clothing. It was so strong, chic, and beckoning in its cleanliness. These "women" had personalities in their plaster. They knew what was up. They commanded that display with artful poise and wisdom. I know this sounds like bullshit, but this is how I can best describe it. So much so, that it made me enter the store.

The name rang a bell, I think my mother had a Norma bathing suit in the 80's, and bodysuits were really making a comeback. I recall not loving my outfit that day; an ill fitting denim and satin jumpsuit that needed to be tailored, sneakers, a newsboy cap. All cool pieces that should have theoretically worked, but didn't that day.  Plus, I didn't like my hair and I had a zit. Nuff said. I'd rather look like those all knowing mannequins, so in I went. As cool as all the displays were, the atmosphere was surprisingly not intimidating. I didn't feel like a loser. And there were tons of things to choose from, each collection had so many fabulous options. I felt like one of the weird child contestants in Willy Wonka, hungry and excited. Instead of drowning myself in chocolate milk like the boy from Germany in those unacceptable lederhosen, I'd immerse myself in sexiness. This was a completely revolutionary concept for me at that point on my life. I was way more sedate, more cautious. I didn't think I was "allowed" to dress that way. Wifedom, motherhood, religion; all contributing to the most judgmental word in the English language: "inappropriate". What would the yentas say if I showed up in a cutout bodysuit?? Would I be the mom at the bat mitzvah who was too risqué and not age appropriate?? Would my husband freak out??

The coolest, most adorable saleswoman, Charlene, who I've mentioned before, was so helpful and good natured. She and I struck up a connection immediately, and had a ball picking out pieces. She right away had an accurate handle on my size and body type. All the clothing was so comfortable and easy to try on! I refuse to fight with my clothes. Or shoes. I really like to get dressed in two minutes, and the Norma stuff is so chic yet effortless. Trying on the goods was, I swear, instant empowerment. The cuts, the styles, the strong yet feminine vibe. I felt like one of those girls who always look easily cool. The kind that make you think,"why can't I look like that?". That make you want to just sit home in your sweatpants since, forget it, you may as well just throw in the towel. Nope; not at Norma is that thinking accepted. In minutes my wardrobe was transformed.

THIS was how I wanted to dress, how I wanted to feel.

One memory stands out; Charlene showed me a super hot black bathing suit piped with large silver studs. Only Kardashians wear such shmatas, but what the heck. Super low front, back , and sides, so "inappropriate" for moi. I blushed and insisted I couldn't wear that piece. Charlene laughed and said her Brazilian clients love it. I did not leave the store with it that day, but her comment never left my mind. How cultural fashion really is, and how if one group of women could be so at ease wearing that, and if it's all based on perception, then certainly I could wear it too. I eventually did order it since I could not stop thinking about it. I have it in black and red, and I love them both. I wear them with ripped boyfriend jeans and a black blazer or tuxedo jacket. Hands down one of my coolest looks. They are symbolic for me for rediscovering that part of myself. The part that reclaimed ownership of her perception of herself, both physically and emotionally. The part that knows herself so well, so that if some bitter, judgement ridden soccer mom has a problem with it, she won't really care. No hostility, just apathy. We will not all have the same haircut, or the same workout routine. We will not all have the same clothes. Or confidence. It's just as "inappropriate", if not way more so, to be so fixated on what someone else is wearing... Those comments almost always have zero to do with the wearer, and everything to do with the confidence level and self value of the commentator. Know that.

 Since I loved and lived in all my new abNORMAlities (I'll never get tired of that pun), I maintained an excellent connection with Charlene.  Almost too excellent 😉 for my credit card statements. They make shopping so easy there via visually descriptive and appealing emails. I have never shopped online, I swear. I don't know how. The two times I've tried, I've given up in frustration. I know monkeys could do it in this day and age🐵, but I have a mental block. What can I say, I'm an old fashioned shopper. I like to speak to a real human selling me stuff. I like to feel it, see it. I'm super tactile. It's why I'm such a smart shopper; it's gotta vibe with all my senses. My BFF SF literally makes all my online purchases. No joke. I read her my credit card number as we place the order together over the phone. She has the patience of Mother Theresa. She cracks up that I'm probably the only person left calling the toll free order number listed in microscopic print on the bottom of catalogs. Catalogs!!! We joke that I ask things to the salesman such as, "so would you describe these placemats as turquoise or teal?". Btw, since this whole enterprise is apparently so outdated and obsolete, I picture the person on the other end of the line as the crypt keeper, sitting at a dusty desk, jumping when the land line rings on the faded yellow rotary phone. But I digress... Bottom line is that when you respond to a Norma email, a real human responds! You never feel that your money and request is being launched into cyberspace, never to be honored. Oh, and I loathe returns. I'm bad at that. It's mind blowing to me when people will order nine different sizes to try on. The returning sounds like such a pain in the ass. I've been known to skip that step, and just wind up giving brand new items to our bi annual community clothing drive (at least it's a mitzvah!). Basically, if there's someone walking around an otherwise destitute neighborhood in Israel, sporting a brand spanking new something, it might be due to yours truly. The Norma team makes returns and refunds very smooth and easy. The whole purchasing process is most user friendly. The customer service is excellent. This is no accident, something Norma herself spoke about at the event I'm finally going to tell you about, the time I met her.         

As a result of my relationship with Charlene and I'm assuming my fanatic devotion to the brand, I was invited to a very intimate, private talk with the empress herself, followed by a Q and A.  Um, "thrilled" isn't the word. I was so grateful, honored, and excited to be included. Again, just to share the same airspace as someone who has been impacting others for decades.. Not in a stadium but a small room. The talk was to be followed by an exclusive (note the redundancy of my use of the word "exclusive"😝) vintage sale from Norma's personal archives. I mean... What's a Kamali clad girl to do other than run there in a Norma black pinstripe suit, black leather harness, and black knit crown ? And I do mean "run", I wore black and silver sneakers. Since I hadn't actually seen Charlene in over a year because we had been emailing, I got the warmest welcome ever. I met other members of the Norma family, all whom could not have been lovelier. I say "family" because that's really what the environment felt like. These women had been working there for years, were so down to earth, so inviting. Many of them had seen my blog, which was the biggest honor. I was greeted so wonderfully and genuinely. This was no accident , as I'd soon discover once Norma herself began to speak. It was fascinating just observing the women gathering to sit and listen. A range of ages, shapes, and sizes. Most with tremendous style. It was a chic crowd. A number of us wearing Norma of course, it was its own exhibit throughout history, seeing the clients model different pieces throughout her massive career. Everyone was so nice and warm to each other. Good feelings out the gate. All white decor except for one pale pink iridescent wall. I felt like I was in Andy Warhol's Factory (having zero idea if that's what the Factory looked like. It's just how I felt).

Then she entered. First of all, the woman is magnificent. Very beautiful. She looks decades younger than her age. That is not an exaggeration. Tiny, yet emitting this palpable prowess. So effortlessly commanding, yet so gracious and down to earth. Norma is of Lebanese descent, I was expecting an accent. None. The calmest, most zen manner of speaking. Her voice is like a softly babbling brook that flows in one specific direction. I'd listen to her read the dictionary, it was that soothing. She spoke about so many things: her start in the fashion world, her design philosophy, her vast experiences designing for dancers and rock stars. Do not get me started on hearing her discuss making shirts for Robert Plant of Led Zeppelin, my favorite front man of all time. Her advertising. Her belief that she's a messenger who can't always take credit for her work, since they feel like they're being delivered to her from a higher power. Her need to share her extensive knowledge of health, beauty, and fitness. HER STAFF MORALE BOOSTING KARAOKE PARTIES,SINCE THAT IS WHAT KEEPS ALL OF JAPAN SO FREAKING HAPPY. Her superhuman patience with the woman who brought her baby to this event, said baby making noise the entire time. I mean, I love kids, but that was a weird move. It was so disruptive, and ever the Lady, NK turned to her mid monologue and said, "I really love your baby." It was so sweet and kind. This is all why the vibes in the store were so pure. They stem from this pristine source of love, creativity, empowerment, togetherness, and encouragement. The mood is as such since Norma herself is so incredible, there's a ripple effect of good feelings. Again, not bullshit. Truth. Lady Blaga doesn't make things up. The driving home proof of all this is the atmosphere of the sample sale. Did I mention that was private and exclusive? No? Ok, it was😆. This was my first time at a sample sale. I was unclear on the protocol. All the plastic garment bags being snatched by ravenous shoppers. I froze. As I told one clearly goyish fellow blogger ( that's a compliment btw), "I don't want to act like a chazir. That means 🐷in Yiddish." Her response, "Go for it." Done.

At one point, in my finest Fran Drescher, I proclaimed that this felt like the infamous bridal shop, Kleinfeld's. A fellow shopper cackled at that remark. I felt astute and funny. Then I started grabbing the shit out of the clothes. Well, I was civilized but amped up. What I discovered mostly was this: despite the potentially nightmarish, competitive frenzy that is often integral to a sample sale, especially a sale of such vastly important work, there was such a feeling of sisterhood and warmth amongst all the shoppers. Women of all body types comfortably stripping down in front of each other, HELPING each other find the perfect garment, pouring compliments on one another. "Try this, it will look great on you!" "You must buy that, it makes you look so thin!". It was honestly a lovely bonding moment, our only common denominator being our love of Norma Kamali. This is how powerful she is, to have the message she lives for manifest itself in such a way, that even after her exit, the love remained. She is a force that forced us all to unite. It was special.

 When I got to speak to her after her talk, I kinda made a beeline, I word vomited how much her clothing means to me. How it has been transformative. How it taught me to celebrate my body and self. How it gave me swag I never thought I had. How strong and beautiful I feel wearing her things. How she is indeed a messenger receiving inspiration from a higher power, and how much I feel her message so clearly. It was a thrill to tell her this because I meant it with all my heart and soul. I told her what happened to me in her silver mermaid skirt, since she lives for hearing tales of all the experiences her clients have had in her designs. That, Peeps, is for her ears only. Let's just say that the combination of Norma and the NYC restaurant La Esquina is a recipe for💥💥💥. You have to make your reservation EXACTLY 21 days in advance🙄. That's the shtick. They're total dicks about it, but it's worth it. It looks like the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disney, my all time favorite (nerd alert: at Epcot it is the Carousel of Progress). Anyway, if you can, go there. And if you go there, you best be wearing NK. So that when you meet her, you too will have your own tale to tell her. And she will laugh with delight. And you will leave with a newfound swag you never thought possible. That, Blaga Babies, is your exclusive for today.

All my love, LB.

purse- Anya hindmarch   Hat- Nini k   harness- nasty gal