HER NAME WAS LOLA
THE ARCHITECTS OF ME
Some people absorb the world, and others shape it. My dad does both, so effortlessly. He's what you could call a cultural alchemist, turning every experience, every conversation, every piece of art into something more. Mornings began with him blasting Run-DMC through the car speakers on the way to school. Through these moments, and the kind of deep appreciation that made every song feel like history, he taught me everything I know about music. He let me discover my own visionary spark alongside him, guiding without dictating, showing without forcing. Even now, whenever I’m starting something new, he is my first text for inspiration or a push in the right direction. My dad always knows the right book, the right album, the right reference that will unlock something in me. Every time I take a step toward something bigger, it’s because of him.​
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Before I knew what a muse was, I had one—my mom. She moves through the world with a fun-loving energy that makes everything feel brighter. Life with her is full of Mamma Mia singalongs and dancing. And her closet? It was my treasure chest of silk, sequins, and shoes. Lots of shoes!
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Thank you, Mom. Thank you for letting me steal your closet, your shoes, your jewelry. Thank you for never telling me no. Thank you for being my first muse. You are the most fearless, and most radiant human being.
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My grandma, Mama Lo, carries herself with so much grace and elegance. She is the most fabulous woman I know. Her vanity was a wonderland of glass bottles, perfumes, and compacts with pretty trimmings. When I was little, she'd let me wear her hair accessories and headbands and play with all of her lipsticks and other products. To be raised in her presence is to know what it means to be graceful, to be strong, and to be fabulous without trying too hard.
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My mother's parents, Mama Kathi and Papa Eddie, lived just outside of the city in an all white house. It was my sanctuary. They had impeccable art, no clutter, no excess, and in the winter, the best hill for sledding. Even as a child, I understood that their home was something special... I made sure to never knock over the Lalique in the living room or spill on my grandfather’s couch where the cushions always sat perfectly in place.
But his den... I could talk about it for days. It was a carefully composed reflection of his taste, with every book perfectly arranged on the shelves, and a desk that was never out of order. It was a place where you could sit for hours and understand him without a single word exchanged. When I think of my Papa Eddie, I think of the richest shade of green, Slim Aarons photographs, his love for all animals, and the simplicity of an Alex Katz portrait.
Yet, for all their refinement, what I remember most is their warmth. Weekends in Bedford with Mama Kathi were always lively and full of joy, winding through country roads with the Gypsy Kings playing in the background. Wrapped in the comfort of her presence, I was always smiling.​
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It’s no wonder I ended up the way I did. I was surrounded by incredible people who fostered my creativity, encouraged my wild ideas, and supported me every step of the way. I am forever thankful for them. ​​
My childhood was a whirlwind of dance parties and impromptu fashion shows, where the living room transformed into a runway and the soundtrack was whatever Grateful Dead album my parents had playing on the stereo that day. Our apartment was always alive with energy—a place where joy was celebrated and creativity was the rule, not the exception.
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I was the girl who kept journals filled with doodles and random musings, the one who stayed up late rearranging her bedroom, and the one who quickly learned how to make a mess scattering clothes everywhere while planning the perfect outfit. Even though I was known for leaving chaos in my wake, those moments were the foundation of my creativity, instilling in me a deep appreciation for self-expression in all forms.​
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The vibrant energy of New York was engraved into my soul, and my father made sure I knew the city’s constant motion was an open invitation to dream big.
TURNING POINTS
High school for me was about growing even more into the person I had always been, and the more I surrounded myself with creative projects, the more I flourished. I was in my sophomore year when the world suddenly paused due to COVID-19, and with so much free time, I crafted and crafted until I somehow had my own little business... By Lola Blu​.
In my junior year of high school, I wanted to get more involved in the fashion industry and landed an internship with accessories designer Lele Sadoughi. I spent months shadowing her in her buying showroom, watching her every move. She let me curate and organize her showroom, carefully displaying collections in aesthetically pleasing ways, where I learned the art of visual merchandising and how to tell a story through placement, color, and composition. ​She loved reminiscing about her time studying at Central Saint Martins in London. I would sit and listen intently, soaking in every detail of her experiences. I was eager to apply her sage advice to my own creative journey.
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That summer before senior year, I found myself in Paris, a 17-year-old navigating a city that was grand and unfamiliar. I enrolled in the summer program at Parsons Paris, all alone and full of trepidation. The first week was overwhelming to say the least. Jet-lagged and disoriented, I cried on metro rides, missed home, and felt completely alone. I cried nearly every night that first week. However, every morning, I continued to go to class from 9 to 3 beause even in those hardest moments, there was an undercurrent of anticipation that promised growth. The curriculum was immersive and intense, a deep dive into fashion, and art that was so exciting to me.
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I owe it all to my teacher, Monica (who always reeked of cigarettes). She was the kind of mentor who saw potential in me before I even knew it existed. She taught me how to use InDesign and walked me through the process of creating a portfolio, just in those 4 weeks! She gave me the rundown of all the top fashion and art schools around the globe and told me where I would thrive, where my style would fit, and where I would be challenged. Most importantly, Monica took us on incredible field trips that made Paris feel like the ultimate classroom :)​ After 3PM, the city was mine to explore. I'd wander through the Marais, with new friends, stop at charming boutiques and cafés. Together, we stumbled through the city, uncovered its magic, and found comfort in each other’s company. By the end of the summer, I had a portfolio I was proud of, had grown in ways I never imagined, and felt more confident in the path I wanted to follow.
Senior year was a balancing act between savoring the present and preparing for the future. I was juggling a high school relationship, applying to schools across the world, maintaining my grades, running By Lola Blu, and embracing every moment of my senior year.
Some days, the process of finding schools abroad was anything but easy. My college counselor had little knowledge about the fashion and arts universities I was interested in, schools that existed in a different world from the traditional U.S. college system. There were no clear-cut guides, no alumni to ask for advice, no one to tell me exactly how to navigate the process. I had to figure it all out myself.... what each school was looking for, how to present my work and myself in the best possible way, and ultimately, where I truly saw myself thriving.
At the end of senior year, the pressure of making a decision felt terrifying. I had no way of knowing if I was doing the right thing. What if I ended up hating it? What if I moved across the world only to realize I didn’t belong there? The uncertainty was paralyzing and countless people told me to reconsider, to take I take a more traditional path. Deep down, I think I knew it was a risk I wanted to take. The idea of moving across the world for something I was passionate about just sounded so cool. And I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t something tempting about the idea of being the girl who ran off to study fashion in some European city. At the end of the day, my amazing parents reminded me if it didn’t work out, if I hated it, or if I felt lost, I could always come home.
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We visited Florence all together and the moment we arrived, the city embraced us in a way like nowhere else I had ever been. The warmth in the air wasn’t just from the Tuscan sun, it was in the way people greeted us, in the way the streets were alive, in the way everything felt effortlessly welcoming. Unlike Paris, which always had a certain untouchable feel, Florence felt like it was inviting me in. It was warm, open, full of soul, and from that very first visit, I knew I wanted to to be a part of it.
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FLORENCE, FOREVER
I fell in love immediately with Florence immediately, completely swept up in the romance of it all. The city was so refreshing, so peaceful, and over time, I found it harder not to surrender to it's beautiful slowness. The pace of life there made me pause, notice the little details, and walk wayyyy slower than I was used to.
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Two of my best friends from high school were with me in those early days, and their presence was like an anchor. Those two friends knew me better than I knew myself at times. How lucky I was to have had them by my side because when the overwhelming newness of it all left me feeling lost, they were there to remind me who I was, and to experience the unfamiliar alongside me. We took on the unknown together, and somehow, that made everything feel a little more familiar. We got to live this beautiful little life together and I'll never forget the excitement of those first few months.
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I had come to Florence to study Fashion Styling at Polimoda, one of the most prestigious fashion schools in the world. It was exciting in theory... but in reality, it didn’t feel quite right. The styling course didn’t inspire me the way I had hoped, and I struggled tremendously to connect with the material. There were days I questioned everything. Why I had come, if I had failed in some way. It was hard on my identity and on my sense of self.
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Even though school wasn’t what I expected, leaving Florence was never an option. I had fallen too deeply for the city and the little life I made for myself there. Florence was teaching me something that no classroom ever could.​These people were so integral to my life. They expanded my world in ways I never expected. Florence brought us all closer, and I left with unbreakable bonds and a lifetime of stories.​
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I received a great education in Florence, surrounded by centuries of artistry and craftsmanship, and the Fashion Management major at Istituto Marangoni allowed me to immerse myself in the city's rich fashion heritage while learning the skills to navigate its ever-changing industry.​​​
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When my father once said "You are a student of the world", he was right. I was a student of life. Every day felt like a lesson, and every person I met became a part of that education.
TODAY
While I appreciated the ever-peacefulness and serenity of Florence, I am a big city girl at heart and began to crave more pace.
In September 2024, I returned to the U.S. to complete the final two years of my Fashion Business studies at Istituto Marangoni, this time at their Miami campus.​
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My favorite part about studying Fashion Business is its a multifaceted education that extends far beyond fashion itself. I always feel as though it gives me a well rounded education from finance and entrepreneurship, to more creative aspects like learning about fine arts, cultural awareness, and most importantly a global perspective on it all.