I’ve always had an affinity for the glam. When I was a little girl in the early ‘90s, my mother would rent me old VHS movies like A Place in the Sun. The image of Elizabeth Taylor leaning over the pool table in her white strapless dress is seared into my skull. When she makes her way over to Montgomery Cliff, the soft rustle of her tulle really gets to me. As a brown girl, I definitely didn’t grow up with skin privilege, but I did have other privileges. My family did just fine when it came to money. My mother bought me clothes at department stores and boutiques, yet she scrutinized sales tags and even haggled the salespeople the way you’re allowed to in Europe.