When I started at the CFDA, I knew no one who worked in fashion. I attended my first fashion week a month after my first day on the job.  Fashion Week was how I met people and learned who were the important players in the industry. Stan Herman was my teacher. He was President of the CFDA at the time. He’d say, “See her, kiddo?  She’s the fashion director for whatever store” or “He’s an editor at a magazine.” I also learned the politics of the front row. Thrust there myself, I sat next to editors-in-chief, CEOs of major department stores, celebrities and the newspaper critics who were reviewing a designer’s collection.

The front row is important real estate and is a seductive influence on a person’s sense of self-worth and power. To fall from it can be hard. I’ve seen countless times where a second row seat – or farther back – has caused rage and insult. Even retreat can set in with an eventual withdraw from the whole fashion show cycle. A big shot now becomes a nobody, disappearing on the seating chart. Which brings me to Bernadine Morris. Stan pointed her out to me as she was entering the venue. At the time, many shows were still happening in tents in Bryant Park. I think we were at the Carolina Herrera show. The space set up was seven rows of bleacher-style seating. “See her, kiddo? That’s Bernadine Morris, the former fashion critic for the New York Times.”

Being a fashion critic for the New York Times ranks in the top 1 percent of the front row hierarchy. It gets you the best seat in the house.  But instead of walking straight to the front row center section, Bernadine turned and climbed the stairs to row seven, the last one before standing. She was already older at the time, and her motions were full of strength, grace and dignity. Here was a woman whose love of fashion transcended politics or perceived slight by sitting in a section that would have been considered blasphemy in the height of her career. It was a defining moment for me as a novice in my own coming to terms with where I was being sat. It’s a memory that still reminds me that it’s not where you sit that defines who you are, and to not fall prey to my ego. The show now ends. Next on the schedule is Donna Karan in the West Village. It was a rainy Monday and as the majority of front rowers rushed to the private black cars of convenience waiting to usher them to Donna. There was Bernadine holding an umbrella standing in the rain waiting for the hassle of a bus. She too was going to the next show – but again, with pure determination and motivated not by entitlement but by her appreciation of creativity, she waited with strength, dignity and grace.

It was another important reminder to me. Never take for granted what we have. Climb the stairs. Sit in the back. Take the bus. Define yourself by what you love, no matter the moment. Thank you, Bernadine. We never met, but your actions on that rainy Monday live on.

Pictured: Bernadine Morris with Michael Kors at the designer’s Spring 2006 show.