Power Dressing
I grew up in the seventies in Beverly Hills, just barely on the right side of the gilded tracks. My father was a doctor so we were hardly poor, but we weren’t exactly rich either. Despite my impassioned entreaties, there wasn’t a brand-new white Camaro parked in the driveway on the morning of my sixteenth birthday, nor were there any skin-tight Jag jeans with real diamond studs in my closet. The first and only time I received a clothing allowance, I made a beeline for the Rig