My First Ferragamo

The last time I visited Hong Kong was during the summer of 2013. College days were behind me and I did not have the slightest clue of what I was going to do with my life.

I had been interning at a brokerage firm called National Securities Corp. A job Azan, a former classmate referred me to. I remembered my first day there; a broker introduced himself with a question

“You know what you should do?”
“What?” I asked.
“Be someone’s mistress”. He responded

Azan had heard enough and directed me back to my desk. “That is not appropriate” I heard him say to the man as I walked away. I was one of the few women on the floor and I said to myself “I can do way better than that..”

I was on a path to become a Wall Street Stock Broker like Azan. “They like you and have expectation..” a fellow intern told me. I was honestly not sure. But it was the only opportunity on the table. And in hindsight I could have done more.

Meanwhile, I had submitted two job applications for a personal banker position at Bank of America and Citibank. The district manager of BoA sent me to a branch on the corner of Bowery and Mott for a second interview. I was offered a bank greeter position. I decided to wait instead.

It was about the same time my grandfather was ill. I took a month off from the brokerage path and decided to visit with mom. It had been 17 years. On the plane from JFK to HKG, I was anxious to see extended family, worried about my grandfather, and uncertain what my future holds. I have yet heard back from Citibank.

Standing on the edge of Victoria Harbour port, I found myself wondering. Gazing at the symphony of lights, I really hoped that one day I will have a career like the white man wearing a nice suit standing 5 feet away from me. Except, I had no idea how I was going to get there.

My mom and I spent the next day with my aunt, Yi Ning Yi and her two girls. Yi Ning Yi is the type of woman I always admired.
The 敢做敢当 type meaning dare to act and courage to take responsibilities. Before we left her place, she gave me a lime colored bracelet with the letter H and a pair of beige flats with purple bows. I thought they were pretty.

The flats were the perfect final touch to all my outfits and works in any settings. So I wore them everywhere I go as I do with all my other favorites. I was never good at taking good care of my stuff and I did not understand value.

It was about a year later, I was standing by the exit of Citibank on Lexington and 86th greeting customers as a personal banker. An elderly woman walked up to me and asked “where did you get those?” she pointed to my flats. “I have never seen Ferragamos with purple bows. They are rare and beautiful”. I looked at the flats now barely wearable. “It was a gift” I replied. I thought of the raining days I would walked in the flats from 86th to lower east side. I looked up Ferragomo on my phone and it was too late. It was beyond repairable.

My first Ferragamo now sits idle on the top corner of the shoe shelf at my parents. It has not been touched for years. People say you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. The lime Hermès bracelet I occasionally wore on the days I seek a little bit of luck. I can’t say I have learned to truly appreciate and I’m not just talking about things. One lesson at a time as I step into my next chapter.