Everyone remembers her daringly short, silver lamé dress. It was an iconic photo capturing an electric moment, where emerging American designer Astrid Bricard is young, uninhibited, and on the cusp of fashion and feminism’s changing landscape. She and fellow designer Hawk Jones are all over Vogue magazine and New York City’s disco scene. Yet she can’t escape the shadow of her mother, Mizza Bricard, infamous “muse” for Christian Dior. Astrid would give anything to take her place among the great houses of couture—on her own terms. I won’t inspire it when I can create it.

But then Astrid disappeared…

Now Astrid’s daughter, Blythe, holds what remains of her mother and grandmother’s legacies. Of all the Bricard women, she can gather the torn, painfully beautiful fabrics of three generations of heartbreak to create something that will shake the foundations of fashion. The only piece missing is the one question no one’s been able to answer: What really happened to Astrid?

Get an early look from the first pages of The Disappearance of Astrid Bricard.

An important thing to know about me is that I’ve spent years devouring shows like Project Runway. Unfortunately, by comparison, books about fashion are pretty few and far between—believe me, I’d have found them—so it was to my utter delight that I discovered The Disappearance of Astrid Bricard, a historical novel set in the glamorous worlds of New York and Parisian fashion.

Three generations of women stretch across this book, starting in the 1910s with Mizza Bricard. Mizza works her way through French couture houses for decades until she catches the eye of Christian Dior and, subsequently, rises to fame. In 1970s New York, Mizza’s daughter Astrid also launches to stardom, but not the kind she wants. Rather than making a name for herself as a famous designer, she remains in the shadow of her lover, Hawk, billed as his “muse” and never getting credit for her own designs. After years of frustration, on the cusp of what could have been a career-making fashion event, she disappears into thin air. In present-day France, Astrid’s daughter Blythe has done all she can to distance herself from the legacies of her talented-but-complicated family, but she can’t outrun her natural-born gift forever…

I had such fun reading The Disappearance of Astrid Bricard. At its heart, this book is about women finding their voices. Layered over this deeper meaning is quippy, clever dialogue, gorgeous descriptions of elegant dresses, an irresistible backdrop of global fashion capitals, and an intriguing mystery that glimmers like a disco ball.