I remember the day I left Europe and moved to Manhattan like it was yesterday. I arrived at JFK with my whole life squeezed into eight suitcases. I get out of the taxi and it’s probably the only city which in reality looks better than on the postcards. I moved straight into a tiny studio apartment on the 40th floor in a beautiful, new skyscraper in Hell’s Kitchen, paying a little more than $3,500 a month in rent. My bed was literally halfway in my kitchen space, and I had to store half my shoe collection in the kitchen cabinets. But I had the most amazing view anyone could ever dream of. Going to sleep with The Empire State Building as the last thing you see before you close your eyes at night… … I was in heaven! All of a sudden, sleeping next to the refrigerator in the kitchen didn’t seem so bad.