It could have been anything.
It could have been the fact that my grandma was one of the original radio city music hall rockettes who passed on a love for glamour and dance and fashion.
Or that I know what it is like to sleep squished in a tiny hotel room with eight bandmates.
Or that I worked as a photographers’ assistant in a photo studio and our niche client was body-builders—steroid driven, pumped up and greased down bodies ready for a shoot.
Or that I know what a petticoat feels like because I dressed in square dancing regalia with a busload of seniors as an assistant travel host.Or that I named a family of squirrels who came to watch us work in Douglas Couplands’ kitchen (Tim, Harry, Ivy) while working on his website.
Or that I was one of the children in the meadow on a children’s television series for years.
But it wasn’t any of those things…