The phrase “If you are not your own muse, who is?” kind of says it all for me. It’s one thing to admire people, like the way Kimme is inspired by Evelyn Nesbit, the first “it” girl (she takes my breath away too), but it’s another to give it all up to someone else and not feel that you have it within yourself to touch others with your own expression. Kimme lets it rip with her interpretations of the world – everything from dresses that are “’30s and ’40s through the eyes of the ’70s” to her love for the romantic, like pre-Raphaelite art, with her long hair and flowy silhouettes. Throw in some hippie Topanga Canyon style during the high renaissance of rock and roll (her dad was a musician then), along with her pension for glamorous Hollywood, and Kimme is in a studded gown with velvet wedges (or as she sees it, an editorial spread in Playboy, circa 1974). Fashion gives Kimme a breathless thrill, which can manifest quickly into anxiety, the risk you take and the price you pay when you allow yourself to live passionately and follow your calling.