So my mother hasn’t dressed me since I was a teenager, but deep down in her heart, I know she wants to. I would classify my personal style as modern, unfussy, feminine, subtly chic. In other words, I like to look lovely but I’m the lady who won’t overwhelm the room with my fashion choices. My mother, on the other hand, is just plain fashionable. She will always turn heads and not the what in the world is she wearing? turning of heads, but the Wow, I want what she’s wearing! kind of heads. That said, when she gives me fashion advice, I tend to listen–just not 100 percent of the time, since sometimes, it may not be my style or the look I’m going for. Those moments are fun, by the way. (“You have a problem with this suggestion?” “No, Ma, I just don’t feel it. Can’t I just say no?” “Hmph.”) Anyway, I know she longs for the days when she would just buy my clothes and dress me 100 percent of the time. Instead of doing that, however, recently she’s been hanging up clothes in her room and simply pointing me in their direction. Try this, she likes to say, her voice soft and leading, as if I’m being tricked into being potty trained all over again. I can’t fit it anymore, she then says, smiling, but perhaps you can. Oh, I know the game. That was the case with a dress she led me to a few weeks ago. I studied the dress. Pretty, pink, very feminine, almost romantic. I turned it down. She asked me why. I told her that despite how nice it was, it didn’t really capture me. Fine, she replied, knowing that a day like yesterday would come.
You see, yesterday afternoon, I had nothing to wear to our house of worship. Absolutely nothing. Most of my clothes are either well-worn or too big, and I wasn’t in the mood to incite déjà vu with my ensemble or snap on a belt to hold my stuff together. (I need to go shopping, I know.) Enter Mom’s dress.
I put it on. It looked terrific. It fit like a glove. So there you go. Listen to your mother, because she’s always right.
(By the way, she merely smiled when I came downstairs in the dress. Just a nice, serene smile. Later, she calmly told me to always listen to her. Haaaa!)
I snapped a few photos of the dress for your viewing pleasure. Well, my sissy snapped the photos and oh, the angles. I’m a straight angle kind of gal, not the camera looking up at me. Nevertheless, she’s an artiste. Enjoy.