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Donna Karan

Clothes don't make the woman, but they can be her undoing

Having been a fashion model back in the day, my ever-stylish mom gave me a subscription to Vogue, the magazine she calls "the bible of the fashion world." Her gift is probably a subtle hint to dress up a little so we won't have to ask for a booth in the back when we go to lunch. But ever since I was knee-high to a clothing rack, I've been mostly jeans and sneakers, not dresses and pumps. Vogue is like a train wreck: too terrifying to look at, yet I can't tear my eyes away. I try to imagine myself in thousand-dollar blouses that look like a shredded kite draped over a biology-class skeleton — oops, that's a fashion model — with a blank facial...