Inheritance

Pin It Growing up I can remember longing for the day to be old enough to wear my Mothers clothes.

I would stand for hours in front of her dresser going through her jewelry boxes, draws, closets, racks and racks of shoes. I would try on everything, mix and match outfits for her and throw together my best Cyndi Lauper look.

Meanwhile...She always looked like she was straight out of Cosmo. Perfect slim leg fitted jeans paired with an elongated leather belt adorned with an oversized brass buckle that she so perfectly looped, a blazer with fitted darting in just the right places, accompanying an over sized white collard blouse pleated to a dream. For the next outing she would switch the blazer and jeans out for leggings while taking the same belt, placing it over the blouse letting it loosely hang on her size 4 hips. I took careful inventory of her things. I knew just about every piece of her wardrobe (after all it was going to be mine someday).

This was during the 80's and like most young families we were sruggling. So what did she do to find such style on NO budget? She would thumb through Cosmo and other popular magazines, cut out the pictures and sew them herself!! Seriously amazing what she could do with a sewing machine and an idea. Starting off with just a mere photo she would create her own patterns, hide in her sewing room and come out with looking like it was born for the runways of Milan.

Enamored by her sense of creativity, and taste for fashion, I dreamed of being such when I as "OLD" as her. Now here I am the same age, although not able to fit in her vintage; I am seeing where my passion lies. Fashion.

For christmas a dear friend of mine, sent me a package. In the package was a thick sketchbook and colored pencils. No note, no letter, just a small card with simple writing. To the Richmond's. Love, Kris. My girls asked if it was for them, no I said its for me. What are you going to do with it they laughed. I said exactly what Kris wants me to do...Follow my dreams.

In this book kept near my bed atop a shelf, is the neatly aligned 36 pigmented pencils, crisp pages slowly being filled and the Christmas card from a woman who puts its into perspective its as easy as a piece of paper and a dream. I am now doing as my mother does bringing shapes into forms and forms into designs. While these designs may never hit the runway, I hope they make it to my mothers needles. I can hear the spinning of her machine wheel and smell the fresh cut threads, I picture the tiny hands finishing the buttons and the smile of anticipation as the fabric graces my skin. I hope to soon share with you these things but for now, I write and color.

As always Much Love,

Lauren