For each item bought, another one would be donated to Smart Works, an organization that provides clothing and interview training to unemployed women re-entering the work force. The collection would, in Ms. Markle’s words, per British Vogue, offer wardrobe options more universal in design and appropriateness than “a potpourri of mismatched sizes and colours, not always the right stylistic choices or range of sizes” assembled from donations alone.
It could be observed also that Ms. Nonoo was lovely to talk to — that she was as warm and bright as sunshine winking off a private pond, and that words delivered in her crisp accent piled up like stacks of freshly laundered percale pillowcases. She was friendly and self-deprecating and dressed in a shirt (the best-selling Husband) and skirt (Billie) by Misha Nonoo with luminous Lucite earrings she described as “old Celine,” by which she meant approximately one year old.
When a waiter appeared at her shoulder in the thick of a thought, she cut herself off midsentence and said, “I’m still working!,” in a way that sounded like a compliment, a secret and a “Hello from the flight deck.” (“I always have that fear when people try to steal my food,” she said after the waiter retreated, then imitated a panicked sob: “‘I’m still going!’”)
It was easy to see why anyone would choose her for a friend. Here, in her own words, is how Ms. Markle did:
“We met at a lunch in Miami during Art Basel,” she said (then murmured, “I think this is all pretty well documented”). “And we sat down and we started, actually, right from the get-go, talking about a shared passion for equality, women’s empowerment and our love of dogs.”
Pressed about the plausibility of two strangers at Art Basel ——
“Well, we were at a lunch.”
—— of two strangers at a lunch at Art Basel spontaneously declaring their love for equality, Ms. Nonoo said, “Well, we got there pretty quickly, I’ll tell you that much!”
By Caity Weaver