Leyna Bloom and I used to shop at the same H&M , the massive, multi-level store that opened on Chicago’s State Street in the early 2000s. We didn’t know each other, or even know of each other, but shopping at H&M in the early aughts proved to be momentous for both of us. Bloom was in the early stages of her modeling career, choosing “cutting edge” pieces to show off back on the South Side. I would save my babysitting cash and trek to the store with my best friend, filling shopping bags with beaded tops and miniskirts, and eventually khaki shorts and boys’ button-up tops — the type of clothing I thought was required to show the world that you’re a girl interested in other girls. I was much happier in paisley rompers and super-frilly halter tops, but figuring that out was part of the power of being able to afford, purchase, and replace my entire wardrobe, multiple times over. Though we led completely different, barely parallel lives, Bloom, and countless others with whom we may never cross paths, shared in this quest to express identity via personal style. A mission that, at least for us, eventually led to us living our respective dreams.