Lauren terrified me. She came from Forbes—while I’d been doodling graphics in pink Sharpie and writing poems about Hamish Bowles’ moustache—and showed up to work wearing a blazer (I think I was wearing boyfriend jeans, Converse and a white t-shirt). Turns out, she was the best thing that could’ve happened to Fashionista at that point. I can’t even quantify what I learned in the six months we worked together, but everything from my attitude to my writing improved (and I learned a lot about wedding planning, too). I took off for London a couple of months after she’d arrived and we got an email from Prada, “Are you coming to Milan? We’d love to host you!” I think that’s when it clicked: that we were finally being taken seriously. Of course, Lauren knew that along.