1983 called, and they want their outfit back. which is the first thought that struck me when i spied this adorable pair of linen pants and a white tee. oh, don’t worry, the visual merchandise team from anthropologie didn’t pair these two items together. they’re far better at their job. no, this was an outfit accidentally created by me in a brightly lit dressing room while visiting charleston, sc..
but when i caught sight of this summer ensemble in the dressing room mirror the first thought that sprang to my mind was that of my mother. this outfit had her name written all over it. she would have loved this outfit and would have worn this outfit waaayyy back in the eighties. it was comfy and cute. just how she liked things then. you remember that decade, don’t you? it was a fashion debacle from beginning to end filled with oversized blazers and shoulder pads, leg warmers, headbands, track suits, parachute pants, acid wash jeans, mullets, and perms. yikes!
but all of this got me to thinking about mother’s day and my mother. isn’t it funny that just one glance at an outfit evoked a memory of her.? oh, the power of fashion. the power of clothes.
and i couldn’t help but stroll down memory lane, remembering what a beautiful woman my mother was. how she loved clothes and passed that love onto me. i guess you could say my mother was my first style icon. she loved cashmere and pearls and dressed her only daughter in bobby socks and mary-janes. as a young girl, i would rustle through her dresser drawers filled with kidskin gloves in a variety of lengths.
every year, she looked forward to our back-to-school shopping spree where she would skillfully steer me towards suede skirts and mohair turtlenecks and deftly turn away from overalls or blue jeans. sailor-suits were the norm for me through grade school as were sleeveless dresses. it wasn’t until junior high that the dress code relaxed a bit and we could wear pants to school.
there are still vivid memories of a favorite skirt of hers. it was black and white windowpane that she wore all summer long. through the 1960s, i watched her hemline inch up then fall back down when the midi and maxi returned with a vengeance. her favorite fabrics were velvet and lace and silk. for my first school dance, she whipped up a scrumptious black velvet dress with an oversized lace collar that i thought was dreamy.
she grew up in an era that favored hats and she wore them regularly. especially on sunday. even when that tradition began to wane she remained steadfast to her love of hats.
in her eyes living rooms, fine china, and guest soap were reserved for, well, guests. for years i teased her that the guest soap would have to be buried with her as they outnumbered the guests 6 to 1.
my mom loved to share her skincare routines and makeup tips with me. when she came to visit we regularly trotted off to the mall for a shopping spree. since she firmly believed in ladies who lunch there was always a stop at a local cafe.
she was the oldest of three girls. whenever the sisters gathered together, they reminisced of years gone by. their stories held my rapt attention which included vivid descriptions of the outfits they wore in their youth. and the local stores where they were purchased.
here are five style lessons i learned from my mother. lessons that stick with me today.
not one tip is groundbreaking news, but it’s good advice all the same. wouldn’t you agree? and while my own crew didn’t include girls to share fashion tips with i still like to dole out a little advice now and then to my three sons.
and i’m always at the ready to share a little home decor tidbits like how to shop for sheets. here’s a recent message from mom where i dish up some tips on folding a fitted sheet.
a mother is a mother all of her life. and no one loves you more than mom. it’s true. so wherever you are, whatever your plans may be today i wish you a very happy mother’s day! it’s the best job on earth.