In my teen years, I was hanging out with adults - Steven Meisel

Hear, O seekers of wisdom, the words spoken by Christy Turlington, whose life became a tapestry of beauty, ambition, and the mingling of generations: “In my teen years, I was hanging out with adults—Steven Meisel, Francois Nars, Oribe, Paul Cavaco. We had so much fun! We’d go out in New York.” This utterance, lighthearted in tone, carries within it a deeper current, a lesson about youth, ambition, and the shaping of identity amidst elders of influence. What seems like mere reminiscence of joy is, in truth, a testimony to the power of mentorship, of daring to step beyond one’s years, and of the strange mingling of innocence and worldliness that the city of New York often inspires.

Behold the time of her teen years, when most youth are uncertain, hovering between childhood’s shelter and adulthood’s storms. Yet she walked with adults, masters of their craft, visionaries who would shape not only her destiny but also the destiny of fashion itself. In their company she learned not only the arts of beauty and glamour, but also the cadence of professionalism, creativity, and ambition. These names she speaks—Meisel the photographer, Nars the artist, Oribe the sculptor of hair, Cavaco the stylist—were not merely companions, but architects of an age. To be among them was to drink from a fountain of genius.

Yet let us not mistake this for mere indulgence. Yes, she says, “We had so much fun!” Fun there was, but also education—of a kind few textbooks could provide. To sit among elders, to laugh with them, to work alongside them, is to be tempered like iron in the forge of experience. Many in their youth seek only the company of peers, yet she sought and found wisdom in the lives of those ahead of her. And thus, like a sapling growing tall beside oaks, she stretched swiftly toward the sun.

Consider also the setting—New York, city of endless lights, a place where dreams are both born and shattered. In that city, the young are tested: some are consumed by its fire, others are forged by it. Christy Turlington’s story mirrors that of countless dreamers who stepped onto its streets. Recall the tale of Alexander Hamilton, himself a youth who came to New York with nothing but wit and hunger, and in the company of older, wiser men, rose to prominence, shaping a nation. Both stories, though in different realms—one in politics, the other in fashion—speak of the same truth: that youth elevated by association with greatness may themselves ascend to greatness.

But the words also remind us of the fragility of time. For in those years of youth, choices made are seeds planted. Some seeds grow into forests, others wither. To spend those early years in the presence of visionaries can give one wings, but to squander them can weigh the soul with regrets. Her reminiscence is both joyous and instructive: it reveals the gift of opportunity seized, the blessing of guidance received, and the laughter that sweetens even the most serious of journeys.

The lesson for us, then, is clear: seek out those who are wiser, those who are farther along the path. Let the young not be content with voices no older than their own, but hunger for the counsel of mentors, teachers, and visionaries. For to walk with the great is to be lifted by their stride. And for those who are elders, let them remember that their company may shape the destiny of those still tender in age. The presence of a guiding hand can change the course of a life.

Therefore, let the youth be bold in their search for wisdom. Let them dare to step into places that challenge their spirit, let them be unafraid to learn from the mighty. And let all remember: life is not merely about fun, though joy must be cherished—it is about growing through the company we keep, the lessons we inherit, and the fire we choose to walk through. For as Turlington shows, the laughter of youth, mingled with the wisdom of elders, can forge a life that shines like a beacon to generations yet to come.