Thursday, March 24, 2011
Several weeks later, when I wanted to interview her for a story, I emailed her again. Once again, Sharron didn't respond. Yesterday I called her shop down in the Design District. "IS Sharron around?" I asked. There was an uncomfortable pause on the other end of the line. Sharron, an associate sadly revealed, had died on the 17th.
I first met Sharron Lewis when she managed Wolfman Gold in NYC. She was tall, thin, wore simple chic clothes, and had a bright blond rocker hair. She was nice, but quite reserved, and her cool and stylish confidence intimidated me.
Several years later we connected while hanging out at a furniture market soiree. I noticed her strength and I also detected her vulnerability. Our friendship took root.
Miami Beach condo for Country Living. With its billowing sheers and pale wood floors painted the subtlest blue imaginable, it was so light and air and I fantasized about living there. I can still see Sharron, in a blue and white sarong and soft linen shirt, plating stone crab claws on a huge ironstone serving dish. It was fun. We bonded.