I long for my garden to be complete. Working in it is one of my joys, but it will never be finished because it's forever changing with the seasons.

I saw no reason why childhood shouldn't last forever. So I created clothes that worked and moved and allowed people to run, to jump, to leap, to retain their precious freedom.

I liked my skirts short because I wanted to run and catch the bus to get to work.

I always designed clothes from a very young age because I didn't like the way they were. They were paralyzing; they were stilted.

An early spring started one morning in March with a swarm of sudden, glassy, bird cries, and then the cool jewelry of primrose and violet loosened themselves in the dirt. Then summer burst into the world like a gorgeous car accident- opening eyes all over our bodies in the brilliant light. Fall- the smell of pumpkin guts, sluttish and unsweetened. Until winter fell all over us like pieces of heaven, glazed with oxygen or ether, hitting the grounder in small, cold shards. It was like a year in Eden where no Eve had ever lived.

When you're finished changing, you're finished.