Dear Patricia,

Flipping through phone-book-thick fashion spreads of garden prints and Chelsea boots and leather gowns for fall, I can’t help wishing one of these glass-eyed Gucci models were rocking a $26 House of Field sequined American flag fanny pack. I see beautiful clothes and accessories for miles, but I don’t see a lot of style.

I get that these are templates, perfected and impersonal. And if Meryl Streep’s monologue in The Devil Wears Prada is true, they influence and inspire me in ways I don’t even realize. But you styled that movie’s visual arc so true to the characters as opposed to merely reflecting trends or ironclad notions of taste. It reminds me of something you said to an interviewer years ago: “An outfit doesn’t come together. You come together.”

Ever since the Sex and the City phenomenon and your Emmy for the show’s enduring look, everyone asks you how to get dressed. You’ve said it’s like cooking, another art form that has a million rules and trusted recipes. Julia Child didn’t invent bœuf bourguignon, but she made it her own. Special. And you’ve done the same for beet-red hair and black T-shirts. No matter how many serious questions you get about what style is and how to “master” it, you remind us that it’s actually fun—if we let it be. So welcome to fabulous Las Vegas, where a New York girl with outsize flash and fantastical ideas fits right in.