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When my best friend Beattie changed our travel plans and surprised me with a trip to Iceland, I was nothing but thrilled. Well, except for the fact that I felt like I had nothing to wear. Beattie, however, assured me that our commissions from our first book acquisition for my uncle would cover a small shopping trip for beautiful wool coats and appropriate hats. That alone had me excited because while I was still coming into my own in terms of fashion, Beattie had long ago settled on her signature style and was all about helping me find mine. “You might find the perfect velvet blazer to go with that long black broomstick skirt you have,” she said as we landed, planning our afternoon in the capital city’s downtown.
But the long flight, the excitement of our last stop in Edinburgh, and th
