I still remember the first time I discovered Mozart. I was eight years old and performing at my very first piano recital. Our teacher, in an attempt to congratulate us on our hard work, gave every student a small statue of a world-renowned composer. Mine depicted a rather strange looking man with long hair and
I believe it was pure lack of direction that led me to Avenue Montaigne. A morning consisting of waltzing around the The Palais Garnier (Opera House) pretending that I was Christine Daaé and only momentarily pausing from my daydreams long enough to notice an impromptu Couture Fashion Shoot going on right beside me, had left me
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