“Thank you,” I say to Leah and my parents when it’s just the four of us. “This was so sweet of you.”

“You worked so hard for this,” Umma says, squeezing my shoulder. “We couldn’t just let it go by like an ordinary day.”

“Wow! Our daughter, a designer,” Appa says proudly.

My heart swells. I can’t believe we made it to launch day. That I made it to launch day. Last night, I lay in bed for hours thinking about today. What will it feel like to see someone walking down the street wearing one of my designs? Or what if nobody buys them? I tossed and turned, picturing the bags sitting there on department store shelves, collecting dust. While it’s true that I’m doing this on my own, I know everything I do reflects on DB and Girls Forever as a whole. And seeing the pride in my father’s face right now, I know it reflects on my family, too. They’ll, of course, love me no matter what—whether I succeed at this new venture, or fall completely on my face. But even so, I’m terrified of letting everyone down.

Leah blows her party horn, breaking me from my nervous thoughts. “We brought a special breakfast for you, too, Unni!” she says. “Egg-and-cheese breakfast croissants from that new brunch place across the street.” She says croissants in an exaggerated French accent. “They’re soft and flaky and amazing—you have to come try one while they’re still warm.”

“I can already taste the butter,” I say, grinning. “I just have to do one thing first. I’ll meet you out there.”

I reach for my phone as Umma, Appa, and Leah leave my room. I already have an Instagram post scheduled for today. One last time I check over the photo of me posing with all six of my bags slung over my shoulders. I stare at the photo, pleased with the final result. The bags are cohesive—they make a statement about color and whimsy and living your best life—but they are still all very distinct from one another, so I had to think carefully about what kind of backdrop and outfit would complement them all. In the end, we shot the pics in front of a plain white backdrop, with flowers of every color scattered on the floor. I wore a sleek pale-wash denim pantsuit.

Meet your new favorites at: RACHEL K., the caption says, encouraging people to follow us at @rachel.k.shop.

I take a deep breath.

Here we go.

I click “post.”