Growing Up, Coming Out is a series of personal reflections from queer American designers, released every day this month.
When I was 14, I was rehearsing for a theater performance, sitting against the window, and in walked this girl, 17 or 18: high ponytail, red T-shirt, puffer vest, bell-bottom jeans, moon boots. I was so completely drawn to her. Her energy was different: masculine and commanding and brazen. Some family friends noticed me following her around the theater, completely enamored, and grabbed me and pulled me aside and said, “We see you watching her. Do you—do you like her? Do you have a crush on her?” I was mortified—but I spent the next four years in her shadow. I just knew that she was different, even though I couldn’t identify why.
Four or five years later, her mom hired me to do the costumes for a fringe festival show in New York that her daughter was starring in, and at the cast meet-and-greet she came up to me and said, “You’ve wanted to kiss me for five years, haven’t you?” We had this little lover-ship over that summer.
Fast forward 20 years, and that person is now my best friend—I’m the godmother to her daughter. It’s really beautiful how the queer community has these intimacies. If that’s not chemistry and nature, then I don’t know what is.
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