Growing up in suburban Michigan, I spent years trying to fit into fashion norms low-rise jeans, tight T-shirts, platform shoes while hiding the quirky, gothic aesthetic I secretly craved. Everything changed when I returned to horseback riding in my late 30s, and the barn became the place where I finally merged my childhood self, Katie, with my later alter-ego, Katharine K.

In the stables, I found freedom. Breeches, tall black boots, wool jackets and even custom chaps designed in chocolate leather with tan snakeskin fringe suddenly made sense. I was surrounded by people who embraced oddness, and in that space, I could dress weirdly and feel at ease. The uniform of equestrian sport, formal yet creative, became a bridge back to my true self.

Then came a trip to Versailles. While cantering a little Arabian horse through its gardens, I realised I could blend my gothic, avant-garde style with the elegant, traditional world of the barn. I wore black Dada breeches, a leather jacket by Noir Kei Ninomiya, tall boots and red lipstick it wasn’t period attire, but it was wholly me.

Today, I dress like the person I used to suppress, and I’m OK with that. I’ll wear riding gear to drinks downtown, pairing it with a vintage Hermès belt and surreal Schiaparelli jewellery. I’ve finally found a way to show both Katie and Katharine in one outfit and to recognise myself in the mirror.