Lessons Learned from Mama

She might have quipped — “What, no heels?”

She might have quipped — “What, no heels?”

I spotted this magenta beauty strutting around Paris, solo, celebrating the end of one job and the beginning of liberation as a consultant. The coat stopped me in my tracks, ‘Mon dieu — M O T H E R!’⁣

It's the Sandro, high-end version of her silver fake fur (before fake was chic, sisters) worn by Mother, not mom — she was Mother with a capital M. Each morning at 6:15, Mother donned her coat and wrap-around shades, threw her hair back dramatically on her way out the door to drive dad to the train. She projected GLAM, POWER and — do not talk to me, children, until I've had at least 2 cups of strong coffee. Style — to Mother — was all.⁣

At the age of six, I made my own Scarlett O’Hara vow — to be bad-ass, powered-up — and independent

She was smart, funny, intuitive, bossy and gave everything to her kids. She could have ruled a corporation. Instead she ruled our house. But even as a kid, I noticed the imbalance —  why did this powerhouse have to ask dad (dominated by her in most ways) for spending money for groceries and cold cream? When she was refused, it broke my heart.⁣

At the age of six, I made my own Scarlett O'Hara vow — to be empowered, bad-ass, and independent. No asking for ‘spending’ — I would have my own money, and have somebody drive ME to the train …⁣

When I swaddle myself in this fuzzy chicness, bought in a city she’d never been to, with spending money I earned, I think of Mother — and wonder who she may have been if born decades later. Am I just a modern, updated version of her? If so, I’ll take it — and thank my glorious Mother for the hard-won lessons of love, values — and bad-ass fashion taste she bequeathed me.”

Originally written for @UnderHerCoat