Scene: phone conversation- she is visiting America, I'm in Toronto.
Mutti: Hey giraffe, guess what, I found a pair of pants down here! They have a belt of some sort attached, and you know how belts rarely work on me, but these look great on, and only cost $18, so I decided to pick them up.
(concept of mother buying clothing is very exciting for me, so I try to respond with tremendous enthusiasm)Moi: Oooh. That's great! I can't wait to see them. You know, you can always get pants that cost
more than $18. I mean it is worth it if you are going to wear them a lot right?
(I should note that my mother is not cheap in the slightest- she just doesn't see the point in spending money on clothing)Mutti: Hmmm. Yes, but why would you? I mean, no one needs clothing that costs more than $20. It's silly really.
Moi: Uhhh. (Deciding now is not the time to propose using her credit card to purchase items in the online saks sale.)
Mutti: ...anyway, it is time to cull my closet a little. You know how I try to maintain an "in-out" system. (
this means that if something comes into her closet, something must go out. She owns roughly 8 items of clothing in total. All of her worldy possessions could fit in a cardboard box.).Moi (with utmost affection): Yes, I know you psycho anti-materialist.
Mutti: [Laughs] I got something that you will be excited about though- sport socks! Tons of them. Black ones and white ones, and expensive ones with special padding for running.
Moi: Delightful. Mum, couldn't you bring back stuff like... oh, I don't know, YSL booties, a Vanessa Bruno dress.... SOMETHING overpriced and fabulous that I can't wear to the gym?
Mutti: Just you wait, you're going to be begging to steal some of these sport socks.
Moi: Uh huh.
Mutti: Sometimes I wonder how I ended up with a fashionista daughter.
Moi: Je ne sais pas.
Mutti: Mais, je t'aime.
Moi: Je t'aime aussi. Though you are fashionably hopeless.
Mutti: Thank God!
My mum and her beloved cow in India. Needless to say, designer clothes weren't a big part of my upbringing :) She is an expert though on the salwar kameez.
To me, this is a perfect candid photograph that captures the elusive, carefree element of summer. Beyond the lovely printed bias cut dress (I'm always looking for those on ebay...), look at how the heel of her right shoe meets her shadow. I love that this couple -snapped in 1930 by the invisible friend whose shadow you can see in the foreground- is playing around on the beach in California, but they are still dressed to the nines. Check out his spats!
Merci beaucoup...
