It’s been 25 years this month since I fin­ished my mas­ter’s de­gree in Jour­nal­ism. Our class Face­book page has been on fire with old pho­to­graphs and shared mem­o­ries. Has it re­ally been a quar­ter of a cen­tury since we stayed up all night fin­ish­ing as­sign­ments at Pulitzer Hall? I specif­i­cally re­mem­ber how a friend of mine showed me how we could com­mu­ni­cate with other stu­dents in other cities around the world via com­puter on what she called the World Wide Web. Why call when you can e-mail each other? she had asked. But why e-mail when I can just call? I replied. Be­cause it’s free, she said. I couldn’t un­der­stand then how long dis­tance com­mu­ni­ca­tion could ever be free. I was mak­ing AT&T hun­dreds of dol­lars richer ev­ery month by phon­ing home for just a few min­utes on Sun­days.

Some­times I won­der what would’ve hap­pened if I had pur­sued a ca­reer in hard news. When I was young and ide­al­is­tic, I’d planned on be­com­ing an in­ves­tiga­tive news re­porter or a for­eign cor­re­spon­dent, do­ing ex­posés or head­ing to war zones, chang­ing lives.

But in­stead, I edit a lux­ury life­style mag­a­zine. We do in­ves­tiga­tive re­ports on skin­care prod­ucts and treat­ments. We at­tend par­ties that are mine­fields of gos­sip. The big­gest dan­ger in re­cent mem­ory was avoid­ing get­ting tram­pled on by a spooked horse at our cover shoot. If. But. But no. No more ifs or buts. Life is good. It’s been eight years this month since I moved home from New York. I’m no longer the same per­son I was when I was there. I’ve be­come more out­go­ing and out­spo­ken here than I ever was over there. Maybe it’s the na­ture of my job. Or maybe it’s age. Or maybe it’s be­cause I’m back in my com­fort zone with peo­ple I’ve known my whole life.

I was look­ing through my closet re­cently and re­al­ized it also looks very dif­fer­ent from the way it looked a few years ago. While it used to be a row of black, there are now splashes of color here and there. Mostly reds and dark pinks, and some pur­ples and navy blues. Color makes me happy.

I guess tastes change over time, de­pend­ing on one’s moods, one’s cir­cles of friends, one’s chap­ters in life. Wel­come to our an­nual Fash­ion and Tastemak­ers is­sue. It's one of our most pop­u­lar is­sues be­cause we fea­ture peo­ple who are con­fi­dent enough to march to the beat of their own drums, not feel­ing the need to con­form to the norm. In do­ing so, they have de­vel­oped their own artis­tic flair and elan, which to us is oh, so very at­trac­tive. And it is their trail­blaz­ing qual­ity that leads to a fol­low­ing, which even­tu­ally makes them no longer unique be­cause oth­ers want to be like them (isn’t that ironic?), which pushes them to rein­vent them­selves again.

On our cover, spir­ited San­dra So­ri­ano. We had orig­i­nally planned a fea­ture on her in a pre­vi­ous is­sue, but af­ter meet­ing her and get­ting to know more about her, we were de­lighted to pho­to­graph her a sec­ond time for our cover. Ah, to be young and to have the world at one’s feet.

Life is good.

cLASS Act From left: yvette at the grad­u­a­tion rites at co­lum­bia univer­sity in 1993; dressed in color with chris­tian Louboutin.

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