The Hair Tie

A little thing. A rather big story.

I never imagined I'd walk a runway at New York Fashion Week.

For most of my life, I was the girl who wanted to disappear. Too skinny, too awkward, too uncomfortable in my own skin. I learned to fold my shoulders forward and make myself small.

And then, in my fifties, through a rather extraordinary series of events, I found myself backstage in New York City, wearing a strapless ball gown.

I was terrified.

My lip was trembling. My stomach was turning. Everything in me wanted to run.

But I walked.

It was awkward. Definitely not graceful. But I remained upright which I consider a win.

Here's the thing, when I stepped off that runway, I discovered something wonderful.

I hadn't died. (A genuine concern at the time.)

And I'd done something I never believed I could do that no one can ever undo. 
Forevermore I can say that I walked a New York City Fashion Week runway and that friends, is a sentence I could never imagine writing.

Now, here's where the hair tie comes in.

I longed to go to New York since middle school. This was my chance! So of course  I purchased hair! Two real hairpieces-- a long pony and a shorter one made for buns/chignon and, on a whim, a ridiculously expensive hair tie.

Ten dollars. For ONE hair tie.

But I was curious.

And wouldn't you know it? I loved the thing.

It held my hair beautifully without pulling or slipping. I liked it so much that I eventually found a manufacturer to make a version for The House of Magsarili.

So yes, it's a hair tie.

A really good one, if I do say so myself.

But for me, it will always be connected to a trip I never thought I'd take, a runway I never thought I'd walk, and the discovery that sometimes the smallest yes can lead to something extraordinary.

 Photoshoot in Times Square with 'my'ponytail

Wear the Story.