The invitation had arrived in a cream envelope with embossed lettering and no flourish. It was not the kind of event I had expected to attend this year, not with everything still settling into shape, not with the boutique still finding its rhythm. But there it was, unmistakable in its simplicity. The Gala of Design and Legacy. An award ceremony I had watched from afar when I was younger, seated beside my mother as she whispered stories about the women whose names were called on stage. I used to ...