“You have an entrepreneurial spirit, I know you’ll go far,” she had said to me once over a lunch meeting we’d had at the Cooper Hewitt. She was the only one who believed in me. I remember admiring her from before I’d applied to FIT - I’d seen her name listed in relevant fashion culture and history publications, read about her accomplishments. I remember feeling like FIT had so much to offer me if this is what the offered her. She was helpful, she was kind and patient, and best of all, she was realistic.
“If you work in a museum, you’re going to use hot glue,” she told our class one time. “I know they tell you not to, but what are you going to honestly do? When you get into the field you’re going to realize that the museum business is all about time and money. And there isn’t enough of either one for you to spend your career tabbing boxes by hand.”
I had come to her with a grant proposal idea. She encouraged my research and desire to network, travel and publish. She was the only one who wanted anything to do with me, the only one who showed any interest in the things I did and the plans I had. All my life, I’d consider her to be more than a part-time professor. She was a mentor.
She was my friend.
