I was born at home, on our farm in Savannah, Tennessee. It was the largest farm in the county, but the county was very small! We primarily raised white-faced Herefords and cotton. Later, the cotton fields turned to soybeans. We owned the only dairy in the county, and we had all the possible animals: horses, chickens, pigs — everything. We'd go to the calf competitions in Nashville, and my brother seemed to always win the grand championship with his calf. I rode mine!

I adored my childhood there. I feel like I was the genetic sweepstakes winner, honestly. I grew up very secure, surrounded by love. I had an older brother and a younger sister. It was an idyllic, simple, beautiful kind of childhood that most kids don't have today. I grew up in such a cocoon of innocence, and I'll say this: I've never wanted for anything. But I also had the good sense to know not to ask for something I couldn't have!

We made up our games on the farm, and we loved being outdoors. I started dressing my Persian cats when I was four or five years old. I'd have fashion shows, and the cats would have to march around. Mother had bolts and bolts of fabric and Alencon lace. I'd run florist wire through the top and make a skirt, then I'd put the skirt around the cat. The cats I thought did the best got a little bowl of milk — or I'd put the milk in a baby bottle, lie them on their backs with all four paws up, and feed them out of the bottle.

And I loved paper dolls, designed paper dolls. In Savannah, there were no fashion stores, just general stores with fabrics. They had pattern books — primarily Simplicity and McCall's. The McCall's paper dolls were way too juvenile looking for me! I wanted the glamour, the Vogue patterns! When they were in Memphis or Nashville, Mother and Daddy would buy me the out-of-date Vogue books. I cut my paper dolls out of them and made 3-D clothing for the dolls.

My great-aunt was a fabulous seamstress. I stayed with her when Mom and Dad went out. She lived nearby — well, Savannah is so tiny that everyone lived nearby! We would always pull out of this bottom drawer of fabrics and make things while Mother was away. I would have a new outfit for school the next day.

I didn't realize until later that Mother was buying all those fabrics — acres of fabrics — for my great-aunt to keep in that drawer for me to design with. We'd lay these fabrics out on the table and anchor them with big case knives. We did not pin anything, and we had no patterns! It was all freehand.

I don't recall anyone I grew up around not having bolts and bolts of cloth, ribbons, and lace. I never thought it was unusual.

I had my own dressmaker from the time I was three years old. I never wanted to look like anyone else, never wanted to dress like anybody else. Mother said that if the skirts were being worn down to the ankles in style, I'd want mine up around my hips. I always wanted to be different.

I studied oil painting for an hour each afternoon with an elderly lady. I'd paint canvases, figurines, plates. The paintings were very much about family and love. Farm scenes. One is a mother duck with her wings spread out around her ducklings. Another is a mother cow kissing her newborn calf.

Mom started me in dancing school in Memphis, and I won some competitions. I loved tap dancing, baton twirling — I loved competition. But Mom wasn't pushy. It was always, "Just do your best and have a great time!" And I carried that attitude with me later when I started the Little Miss Universe, Miss Teen Universe, and Junior Miss Universe pageants.

Anything that had to do with church, home, or school, you could count on our family being there and participating. I enjoyed being a cheerleader, majorette, and representing the school at various events. I was honored to receive the school's "Most Likely to Succeed" designation, which, interestingly, my mother had won years before and my younger sister later won! We were never ones to sit on the sidelines.

So I grew up in that atmosphere, surrounded by the security of competing and creating. I don't ever remember Mother saying no to me about any creative idea I ever had. That gave me the confidence and freedom to create and the freedom to be fearless of failure. I think a lot of people don't do things they might like to because they are so afraid of failure. You have to fail in something to get where you're going.

That's the kind of home I grew up in.

So I've designed all my life. I grew up doing it, and I just evolved into it. I never thought about what I wanted to be when I grew up. I never aspired to a particular thing, never had any real goals. I was just always a very happy and happy-go-lucky child. My life just evolved in a very interesting manner. I just let life take me where it would.

I attended Memphis State and was a teen model at Lowenstein's, Levy's, Gerber's, and Helen of Memphis. We had fashion shows three days a week. I was also teaching modeling at Patricia Stevens and doing the major conventions for Holiday Inn. I designed Holiday Inn's first uniform. Kemmons Wilson wanted his guests to see a familiar look behind the check-in desk when they entered his Holiday Inns. I was a freshman or sophomore living with a Delta Air Lines stewardess, so I replicated that type of look, but in the Holiday Inn green.

I bought the Tennessee Miss Universe franchise when I was 20 or 21. I was younger than the other contestants, but I developed it into the third-largest competition in America. Ultimately, I ended up working with the Miss Universe pageant for 12 years.

That opened up an incredible world for me. As Miss Tennessee, I traveled with Miss USA and Miss Universe to the Orient for three months. We did enormous fashion and charity shows, and the extraordinary embroideries there fascinated me! I could appreciate the amount of time it took to produce those exquisite works of art on fabrics. Those were the early seeds that started my passion for collecting antique textiles and laces, not having any earthly idea then that I would have the museum-quality collection I have now.

In the late 1960s, I met Oleg Cassini. He was at the height of his career, designing for Jackie Kennedy. He asked me to come to New York to model, which I did. It was a wonderful experience, and he was such a talented gentleman. He then wanted me to go to Canada and launch a new line he was creating. I said, "But I'm still in college! I can't do that!" So I returned to my college life, although I had fallen in love with New York the moment I saw it.

I graduated with a B.F.A. in drawing and painting from Memphis State, and I attended the Memphis Academy of Art. Because Tennessee didn't offer a master's degree program in the arts, I studied under Paul Penczner at his fine art studio for many years. I had a very full single life — modeling, designing, traveling, and handling pageant work.

John Burton Tigrett was from Jackson, Tennessee, so I knew him and we had met each other before. He was living in London. We met in May 1973, and he proposed three days after we met! I told him that I had an unusual hobby of collecting antique textiles. Later, he told me, "I thought that hobby would be rather harmless until you started walking into Christie's and Sotheby's in London and clearing the house out!"

We married six months after he proposed and were married almost 26 years until he died in 1999. We had the greatest journey together! He was the most fun guy — amusing, funny, kind, gentle. He gave me the world as a playground, and together, we collected the most interesting people from the most remarkable walks of life.

We lived in London for 20 years. It was a very "dressy," formal period — people dressed to go to dinner or dine at home. Inevitably, someone would look at my gown and ask me, "Whose is that?" And I'd say, "It's mine."

I came back to Memphis for our son's birth in 1977. I wanted Kerr to be born in Tennessee. He reminds me of John daily — always inquisitive, prepared, a kind heart, and creatively analytical. He has a voracious appetite for figuring things out. As a little boy, he loved puzzles. He and his wife, Melanie, have recently given me my first grandchild, Sloane Margaret, named after my mother. When I babysit, Sloane and I play — what else? — dress-up!

In 1980, John planned a business trip to Dallas, and Kerr and I were going with him. I thought, "Maybe I'll just take some things to show Neiman Marcus." I called the merchandise manager and told him what I was bringing down. I took two or three trunks, and when we met, they bought every single thing I had. I didn't even have a business; I was just going for a reaction! I was thinking, "Oh, my God!" but I was saying, "Yes!" to everything! So Neiman Marcus started my business and me 30 years ago this year.

Life has given me so many incredible experiences, and I feel so fortunate. Estee Lauder chose my gowns to launch their "Beautiful" perfume campaign, the first bridal perfume in the industry. I'm the only designer featured in a centerfold in the Tiffany Wedding Book. Jackie Kennedy, as an editor, chose four of my gowns and photographed them in Newport, Rhode Island.

1 2