Iris Apfel Proves You Should Always Meet Your Idols

It was the night before and I felt as though I were prepping for the moment of truth. The night before I met my idol. The night before I came face to face with the absurdly fabulous Iris Apfel!!! Nearing the eve of her 100th trip around the sun, Iris has embarked on a series of trunk shows to generously spread the joy of her personal jewelry collection.

As serendipity would have it, the woman of the hour (or in my case, the woman of my life) partnered with STORY for said trunk show. STORY is one my favorite concept stores, debuted to me at a retail conference I attended early in my college career. Operating like a magazine, the store transforms every 5-8 weeks with entirely new merchandise and an interior to match whichever genius theme is thought up next. With the collab of my dreams afoot, an outfit dilemma of dramatic proportions quickly spun out of control. What was I to wear to meet my fashion icon?! But as Iris once said,

What’s my style is not your style, and I don’t see how you can define it. It’s something that expresses who you are in your own way.

I decided on a pair of killer, checkered, knee-length shorts that easily could date me back to the Dirty Dancing employee clubhouse. Along with a polka dot mesh turtleneck, white Zara blazer, lace up heels, and an Iris-inspired red lip; I accessorized with jitters and a certain type of idol-meet-and-greet-induced restlessness.

Fast forward to meeting the gang at the escalators, all simultaneously losing our marbles, we entered the space with what I think NASA refers to as goo-goo eyes. There we were, staring down a table of Apfel’s very own jewelry box and what surely is the loot at the end of the rainbow. Bangles from far away South American flea markets, chainlink necklaces from 1960s Brooklyn, jewels from Paris trade shows, and broaches from everywhere else in between. Rich in history, passport stamps, and experiences, every one of these pieces would be worshipped more than my wedding dress.

At the end of my treasure hunt, I selected a tree agate bangle of exaggerated size and glorious fashion. A bracelet that I desperately wanted to know the story behind, but of course forgot to ask during my signature word-vomit fest. A true celebration of my gift of gab.

But forget about MY outfit!!!! Iris sat at the metaphorical head of the table in an all red getup with a contrasting black and white zigzag jacket, an arm-full of bangles, and the pièce de résistance: a massive, sculpted, wooden necklace. I approached with what I can assume was far too much energy, but my enthusiasm was no match this 98-year-old’s charisma. When I told her I had just moved to New York City and that meeting her was f**king major, she promptly asked where I was from. After I professed my love for my hometown of Milwaukee she immediately gushed that she attended college at UW-Madison in 1943. Vintage jewelry and Milwaukee reminiscing?! Literally nobody pinch me.

They say you should never meet your heroes because they usually fall short of expectations, but shouldn’t authenticity supersede commendation? Obsession and hype have always been a repellant response for me as I feel the need to question the validity of praise. What’s the point of awarding someone for talent when they lack decency, reputation when they lack transparency, and appearance when they lack substance? Infatuation and the idea of looking up to someone shouldn’t be earned without substantiation. If someone is worthy if idolization, shouldn’t they be the type of person you would want to meet?

Meeting Iris was such a heartwarming experience because she lived up to exactly what I admire her for: unapologetic style, genuine kindness, and relentless gumption. A well-traveled woman equally as sharp as she is smooth. I feel so fortunate to have shared a moment with such a remarkable human being leading a remarkable life.

LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!!!!!