I hadn't seen my dad for an extended period of time in quite awhile. I never saw my dad as anything less than someone that everybody followed, without question. Between working on my project, being chauffeured by a guy who didn't speak any English, and so often, straddling the line between contentment and raging anger, I would come home and see my dad writing in his journal and forgetting things. The realization that your parents are getting old is both humbling and terrifying.
In between, I sought refuge at the Swissôtel Shanghai and discovered a store called I.T. where I got an arm cramp browsing through the massive racks of Isabel Marant.