When I was fifteen and still a trainee at DB, I desperately wanted to go to Nam Hayoon’s show at Seoul Fashion Week. She was, and still is, one of my favorite designers in Korea, but her shows are almost never open to the public. That year it was, and I was ready to trade my kidney for a ticket. I begged my mom to let me go (I even made her a PowerPoint presentation listing all the reasons I should be allowed) and miraculously, she relented. At the show, I took so many photos, my phone ran out of storage space. Even though I was standing way in the back, it was one of the best days of my life and hands-down my favorite fashion show experience.

That is, until today.

I’ll always hold a soft spot in my heart for Nam Hayoon’s show, but going to Nell Kramer’s show as an invited guest is on another level. Hordes of paparazzi snap my photo as I make my entrance into the Carousel du Louvre. Inside, the atrium has been turned into a catwalk, with the glimmering inverted pyramid as its crowning jewel. My manager, Jongseok, leads me toward a sign reading RACHEL KIM — RESERVED SEAT tacked to a chair in the front row. No. Freaking. Way. I settle myself into the chair, tucking the reserved sign into my bag as a memento.

Finally, once the room is buzzing with energy, the lights dim and the show begins. It’s mesmerizing. From the music to the soaring kinetic lights, everything is stunning. You can tell that every last detail has been chosen specifically to set a mood and tell a story—and the show is timed so tightly, it gives me an appreciation for the fact that this, like our performances, is carefully planned and rehearsed down to the second.

And then there’s the clothes. The clothes. Each piece is unique, and there’s a variety of styles—from an enchanting dress made entirely of silk petals to a perfectly tailored animal-print suit with a fitted blazer and cigarette pants—but somehow despite their distinct looks, they all work together, and you get a sense of her voice, her vibe—the delicate and the irreverent mashed together. Nell has styled each of them with glittering hair slides that spell out words like DAMN and WHATEVER, and it gives the show a fun and cheeky tone. I’m entranced.

After the show, Nell herself finds me, gives me a fluttery kiss on each cheek, and says, “So good to see you, darling. You’re even more gorgeous in person.”

“I loved the zipper necklace with the cape outfit,” I say. “It was such a good touch—the mix of industrial and feminine.”