LIVE WELL

Nothing for Me Ever Misses Me

I almost stayed home.

I had been shooting with my mother, I was exhausted, and every sensible part of me said: shower, pajamas, bed.

Instead, I went out with my cousins.

Because summer is almost over. Because I love them. Because sometimes being tired is a perfectly reasonable reason to go home, and sometimes you have to put on the outfit and go live your life.

You only get so many summer nights.

Monday, however, belonged to my bed.

I caught up on sleep, edited content and started getting everything ready for the launch of KAP on HSN September 18. And somewhere between footage and deadlines, I kept thinking about my mother.

Working with your mother is interesting because for most of your life, she exists in relation to you.

My mother.

But spending this much time shooting together reminded me that she is also simply a woman.

A woman who had an entire life before I arrived. Dreams before mine. Ideas about who she wanted to become. Things she still wants to do.

And, at 61, she is also a baddie.

I looked at her and thought, God, please let those particular blessings be hereditary.

There is something beautiful about reaching an age where you can finally see your mother beyond motherhood. Not just as the woman who raised you, but as a woman standing beside you.

Maybe that is one of the privileges of getting older.

We finally get to meet our mothers.

This week I also finalized my third HSN collection for Fall ’27, which is slightly hilarious considering I haven’t released a new KAPHILL collection since 2024.

Life has a sense of humor.

I had one plan.

God apparently had another.

And lately I’ve been thinking about how different life feels when you stop trying to drag it toward the timeline you created for yourself.

KAP wasn't necessarily the road I thought I would be walking down right now. Yet here I am, genuinely excited about what we're building and fairly certain you’re going to love it.

Maybe alignment doesn’t always arrive looking like the thing you asked for.

Sometimes it looks better.

I had another goodbye this week, too.

My final after-work city date.

I took the train downtown for a meeting, then had dinner afterward. Nothing particularly dramatic happened. The city was simply being the city.

And somehow that made it more emotional.

New York isn’t going anywhere.

I know that.

But immediate access to New York has been part of the architecture of my adult life for so long that losing the ability to casually say, I’ll just stay in the city after work, feels like saying goodbye to something larger.

New York shaped me in ways I probably won't fully understand until I have some distance from it.

City Krystal knows how to move.

She knows the train.

She knows the reservation.

She knows exactly how much time she has to get downtown and somehow makes it.

But tomorrow I begin my new role.

And this week, I get my new wheels.

I will admit there were several moments over the past few days when I thought, Chile, let me just go get this car.

I could have.

Instead, I waited.

Because I had to remind myself of something I am trying to carry into this next season:

Nothing for me ever misses me.

Not the car.

Not the opportunity.

Not the invitation.

Not the room.

Certainly not the life.

I needed that reminder again this week while working on a custom look for Tish, the Chief Diversity & Inclusion Officer at Gap, for the Harlem’s Fashion Row Fashion & Style Awards.

I haven't received my invitation to the show just yet.

And maybe I will.

Maybe I won't.

But somewhere in New York right now, my seamstress is running through these streets making this fashion dream happen.

And KAPHILL will be in the building.

There was a time when I might have been consumed by whether I was in the room.

These days, I understand there are many ways to arrive.

That feels like growth.

My tennis racket, meanwhile, has not been touched all week.

She and I will discuss this privately.

But I needed the rest.

I needed a week without trying to squeeze productivity out of every available hour. A week to sleep, recalibrate and recognize how much is changing around me.

Because I can feel another version of myself arriving.

Today, I’m heading to a private book release for my dear friend Chantal and her new book, Benefits Included. I am ridiculously proud of her. There is something especially satisfying about watching a woman you love hold something she once only imagined.

Perhaps that's another reminder.

Things arrive.

Books get written.

Collections get made.

Cars come.

Careers change.

Children grow.

Mothers become women again in our eyes.

And cities we thought we could never leave become places we can return to.

I have spent a lot of my life being very good at making things happen.

Now I want to become equally good at allowing life to happen.

I want more time.

More presence.

I want to be a more active school mom. I want to play tennis. I want dinners that aren't squeezed between obligations. I want to work hard without carrying the feeling that everything is urgent.

I want to know the woman I am outside of constant motion.

City Krystal and suburban Krystal may, in fact, be two entirely different women.

I already know what City Krystal can do.

She built a life. A business. A point of view. She learned how to move quickly and dream even faster.

But I'm curious about the other woman.

Maybe she sleeps more.

Maybe she plays more tennis.

Maybe she gets in her car without checking the train schedule.

Maybe she stops rushing things that are already making their way toward her.

I don't know her completely yet.

But I think I'm going to like her.

I'm entering this next chapter believing I am a magnet for miracles, that things have a way of working out for me, and that what belongs in my life knows exactly where to find me.

Summer is almost over.

Something else is beginning.

And for once, I don't need to rush ahead to see what it is.

Nothing for me ever misses me.

xo,

Krystal