Once upon a time, DRAMA was a fantasy. Now it was my life

I cried the entire subway ride home from Manhattan.

Moments before, I’d stood in front of Ben’s mirror and confirmed that, yes, the dress was perfect. Now I was holding a paper bag with the six pieces I’d sketched, tried, tweaked, and perfected.

A few stops before my house, I pulled out the pieces again, just to check they were still real. They were. DRAMA is coming to life.

The dream had been dormant for so long — I was used to ignoring it. Now, it was right there before me — a soft, beautiful collection I could feel between my fingers. That I could wear. I smiled to myself and folded the pieces back into the bag. At my stop, I rushed off the train. There was lots I needed to do at home.

Now that the samples of my first six dresses were confirmed, Ben would manufacture a full line. It was time for me to plan and prepare to debut my line at a pop-up event a local shul was hosting.

My company was so small I couldn’t afford to order customized bags, so in the basement of my parents’ house, surrounded by a mess of racks and hangers, my friends and I took paper bags and stuck a DRAMA label on each one, by hand.

Once upon a time, DRAMA was a fantasy. Now it was my life. I was the one and only person driving the business, which I’d set up in the basement of my parents’ house. If something needed to happen, I was the one who had to get it done.