The personal stylist Catherine Bloom has sold, by one industry estimate, north of $300 million worth of clothes. She will not confirm the figure, nor name a client or a brand. But she will tell you about a weeping bride, who, a week from her wedding, realized the dress she’d bought was the sample—holes and all. Bloom got the measurements, flew to New York two days later to a waiting muslin, and had the gown hand-delivered inside the week.
That’s the job: sartorial urgent care, on call around the clock. The personal stylist has never been discussed more, and she’s never kept more shtum. Fees, commissions, volumes, clients—all guarded like state secrets. Because when everyone imagines they could do your job (hint: they can’t), discretion is the whole game.
