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100 SHE'S CATHY KINCAID THE BOMB B Y B I L LY F O N G Y ou may have heard me wax poetic about a place I call WASPlandia. It is my fi ctional hamlet fi lled with Cape Cod–style homes, men (alums of Dartmouth or Williams) wearing well-worn Duck Head chinos, and tennis courts aplenty. A true WASP doesn't take him- or herself too seriously — a life that may seem picture-perfect on the outside is fi lled with wit and whimsy below the surface. With that in mind, I envision the welcoming committee to WASPlandia being helmed by Cathy Kincaid. If she were a hashtag? #trellishustler #chintzchaser #blueandwhitebomb. A well-known interior designer, Cathy's aesthetic is instantly recognizable. However, her design always reflects the taste and personality of the actual homeowner. One of my dearest friends has entrusted Cathy with four of her homes because she knows Cathy will create inviting, livable spaces — the top priority being the clients' happiness. When Cathy told me she was an only child, I knew that we were kindred spirits. We both grew up wanting siblings and then learned the traits that so many solo kids pick up: a rich fantasy world of playing make-believe, due to hours of playing alone, and curating a circle of friends who become a surrogate family. Cathy grew up in Fort Worth and attended Nolan Catholic High School, then Texas Christian University. She admits to being an early adopter of the era's preppy uniform: monogrammed sweaters accessorized with wooden-handle purses with interchangeable and reversible covers. Another trait shared by many an only child is a love of animals. Whenever Cathy would beg her mother for a brother or sister, she would instead get a new pet. Her fi rst, a dachshund, was given her nickname, Chiquita. Since then, she has had too many pets to count. What's on the horizon? She was dashing around her offi ce the last time I saw her, prepping to move a client from their Beverly Drive home to a new place in Boston. Next was a day trip to Baltimore to look at bathroom fi xtures for a project in Maryland. And her really big endeavor is a book being published by Rizzoli in Fall 2019. When asked if there more books are to come, she lowered her sunglasses and gave me a resolute: "This is my fi rst — and last — book." Some may not know the full story behind the tragedy that befell dear Cathy in November 2012. A fi re overtook her gorgeous Nina Claiborne–designed home. Of course, the fi rst thing she grabbed were her animals as she fl ed the burning building. Much of her personal effects, which held precious memories, were destroyed. After the fi re, Cathy rented a house on Mockingbird Lane. It was so close to the holidays, she wasn't able to quickly turn the new place into a "home." One afternoon, shortly after moving in, she got a call from her assistant, requesting she come home. Given her diffi cult past few weeks, her spirits weren't high. Cathy brushed off the request and said she would be home later that evening. Then Melissa Feter, a former client who had become a dear friend, called and told Cathy to go home. "You have a surprise waiting for you," Melissa said. Cathy found the rental home decorated with lights and two fully trimmed Christmas trees. Melissa had worked with Cathy's favorite fl oral designer and event planner, Margaret Ryder, and the two had called upon many of Cathy's friends to assist in the decorating. Most of the ornaments had little tags attached with the name of the friend who had contributed the new keepsake. In addition to the decor, she found a refrigerator fully stocked with champagne and festive nibbles. This speaks to the coterie of loyal girlfriends in Cathy's life. When the two of us came upon this picture, I knew it spoke legions. Approximate date. 1988. The occasion. Final touch-ups with my dearest friends, Nancy Hart and Stephanie Young, before the Dallas Museum of Art's Art Ball. What you were wearing. An Oscar de la Renta dress with Jorge Miguel jewelry. What price fashion. I actually purchased this dress on sale at Henri Bendel. I believe in such a thing as "investment clothes," but I have found that I want to wear the newest piece I have acquired, whether it's from Chanel or the Gap. My biggest splurge of this decade was my fi rst Hermès Kelly bag, which I purchased in 1980. It was a gorgeous burgundy color and cost $1,500. I used the bag constantly to justify the cost. In fact, when my son was a toddler, it was often repurposed as a diaper bag. I have defi nitely gotten $1,500 worth of use out of it by now, almost 20 years later. Why this is a Bomb.com picture of you. Girls enjoy getting ready together for an important or special occasion. I've noticed the difference between boys and girls (since I have four children: three girls and a boy). No matter how young or old, the girls spend weeks thinking about what they are going to wear. On the actual day of the event, hours are spent having hair and nails done. And then there are the accessories to choose from: shoes, earrings, bag, etc. Boys, on the other hand, just need a pressed suit, fresh shirt and tie, and that's it. Oh yes, fl owers for their lucky date. From left, Stephanie Young, Nancy Hart, Cathy Kincaid, 1988