Being Audrey Hepburn

As the crowd snapped pictures with every conceivable camera and phone, we made our way to the High Line stairs at Fourteenth Street. They would post these pictures on their Instagram and Twitter accounts, but we had to make sure that the runway was the show they’d remember.

Walking into the covered Chelsea Passage, where the High Line cuts through the Chelsea Market building, we encountered a sea of cool blue fluorescent light that bathed the tu

Chase had already set a backdrop curtain, and we took the models behind there. Massive concert speakers and a DJ deck already had been set up on either side of the runway, and there was my friend Be

“Lisbeth baby! I knew you’d call me!” Curly-haired Be

“You’ve got about thirty minutes, I figure, before the cops shut us down, so we have to start right away,” Chase yelled over the rising din of people settling in. “Good luck.”

Everything in Jess’s monster bag came out. We lined up the girls, touched up their makeup and hair, straightened the lines of the dresses, pi

A spotlight snapped on, and Be

“Go! Go!” Jess yelled, pushing the first model onto the stage.

Bright flashes lit up the architecture as a wall of fans with iPhones and photographers fired their shutters. The models had to walk toward that blinding spotlight just concentrating on keeping their heads up and putting one foot in front of the next while trying to look natural. I’m not sure they could see anything in the extreme contrast of dark and light.

I slipped out from behind the backdrop to see the show and the audience from the wings. Jess’s last-minute sequence ordered the dresses by color, and it was a revelation.

The show opened with a series of white looks that quickly evolved. Sea-foam green was followed by solar yellow and honey orange. Little by little the bolder colors emerged, illuminating the chiffon dresses and the layered skirts within skirts.

The dresses came to life with attractive details—a ripple of sequins, a plunging neckline, a backless dress, a cuff—offering new energetic concepts of style and design. The shimmering blues were the most stu

No ordinary models, Sarrah’s friends were an entire show unto themselves. They were as lithe and lovely as any girl who had ever hit the runway. But these were massively tattooed, slash-and-burn, hard-core, multiracial beauties with some seriously hairalicious hairstyles.

One girl had the words BROKEN DREAMS tattooed across her chest in goth lettering. And of course the most ravishing, purest one of all was Ja

Sarrah had contributed in other ways as well. She had taken some of Jess’s journal entries, the ones stitched into the hems of the dresses, put them on a loop on her computer, and projected them across the ceiling above the models. The audience ahhh’d and oooh’d at each one, loving it.

VIP spotting turned up some surprising people. I waved to Flo, who had brought Rachel Zoe with her. Flo gave me the proudest smile and a thumbs-up. I sca

The lighting was austere and dramatic. The music was shamelessly danceable. It was an instant pop-up fashion event for Designer X beyond our fondest hopes, but the dresses and looks warranted all the attention.

As Jess told me before, a dress had only one chance to make an impression, and after that it had to deliver on the cut, the style, and fabric. The first opportunity was the only opportunity, and this was it.

Sarrah’s model friends were a big hit, too, and I’d never thought girls that tough would blush and giggle, but they did. And Jess … what can I say about the best friend a girl could ever have? She had already made me seem to be someone way more sophisticated than I could ever have seemed myself. At the same time, she was the kind of friend who never stopped laying it on the line. While never wavering in her support of my crazy ideas, she kept me centered and honest even when I was telling the biggest lies of my life.

And me? I was just glad that I didn’t let her down.

The girls did three passes, switching dresses furiously in the back. After Jess and I had finished the last turnaround, we held hands as the models made their walks for the finale.

After the last model had made her turn, a chant went up: “X, X, X!” Soon everyone was chanting, “X, X, X!” It was time for Designer X to take a bow, only Jess was seized with stage fright.

“You’ve got to go, and you know it,” I said. “Come on, step out in front for once.”

“No. It’s your moment. You created Designer X. You drove me to do this crazy thing, and you invented a name for it, dragging me into it until I had to do the best work I could possibly do.”

“It’s the designer who ends the show,” I said, but I could see the wheels turning in her head before I finished speaking.

“Not when you’re wearing my best dress.”

All the models had taken the stage and joined the audience in clapping and chanting. Be

It was over almost as soon as it started. Apparently the cops had been there for the last ten minutes but were nice enough not to shut us down. Chase was tearing the whole thing apart as fast as he put it up.

Bloggers, tweeters, and the like swamped us from all sides with cameras, microphones, and smartphones.

When I introduced Isak to Jess, they bonded immediately, instant best friends and colleagues. As more and more people gathered around Jess, I slipped away. I found a bottle of water and a quiet corner and tried to bring my heartbeat down to a normal level. Finally I could catch my breath.

“That’s quite a show you pulled off, Lisbeth,” a voice said from the shadows.

“Who is that?” I said and turned to see ZK emerging into the light.

“No. You can’t just show up like this.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, holding out his open hand. “More sorry than you will ever believe. Can we talk?”

“I don’t know,” I said, stepping away from him.

He was dressed in a tux, his dark wavy hair slicked back the way it was when we first met. The gold flecks in his green eyes reflected the last of the lights from the fashion show.

“I know it’s hard but there are things you need to know,” he said.

“Are you okay?” I asked him.

“Me? I’m fine. It’s about the bracelet.”

“Why did you take it?”

“I can’t talk here. Will you come with me?”

“Hey Lisbeth!” Chase called. I turned. “We’re going out to celebrate. You’re joining us, right?”

“Yes. Text me where. I need to do something first,” I said, trying not to look behind me.