The Bright Librarian
Above pic is what I wore into the store. Two of my fav. things, my limited edition Luey bag, and those Missoni shoes that I absolutely adore.
Pants I bought from American Apparel. They just screamed me. That color is sick and I was obviously connected to it that day.
It’s no secret (to those who know me) that my obsession with clothes was influenced by my grandmother. I learned how to be an expert thrift shopper from her and how to carefully walk the plank of boarder line hoarding. My grandmother was infamous for putting together “packages” for her grand-daughters and daughters. And we were all infamous for fighting over them. These packages consist of little trinkets, clothes and overall treasures that my grandmother would put together for us accordingly and were almost always filled with gems that she had sheltered over the years.
So once they had collected enough dust and she was ready to purge, she would begin to delegate the goods amongst us. All the while never allowing us to sneak into one anothers bags. If the family members so happen to pick up the goods at the same time then we could argue, trade, and deny amongst ourselves. Grandma was fair and if you got caught going through someone else’s stuff, you not only lost a rare opportunity, she’d also take back what she had packed for you. Sometimes you were able to to earn it back with persuassion and other times she’d torture you and make you wait for months until she completely forgot the packaged existed and you had to remind her of it. I mean it would seem strange to most people, but you have no idea how much energy and time went into any given day when we knew there was a package waiting for us. It was like what I can compare to a sale at Barney’s where everything is 50% off of the stuff you actually want o buy from Barney’s. It was insane.
Another rule to the game was that you couldn’t just out-right ask grandma for the goods. She had to be fiddled; worked up and buttered into it. Not only were her items dear and precious to her-even though being very little in market value, they held many memories and were indeed gems because of my grandmother’s great sense of style. The household joke til this day is “Your grandmother didn’t have thirteen kids for no reason”. Meaning grandma was quite the looker in her days. Combined with her style she “turned many of heads in her youth”. No model, dancer, stylist or art extraordinaire. She was just a hard-working mother with a great eye. My grandmother didn’t come from wealth and she hadn’t gained much of it in her living years, but had you bumped into her in the street you would beg to differ. It was unquestionable who Bernice’s children were, because just as stylish as she was, my mom, aunts and uncles played the “part” just the same. I am my Grandmothers’ (self accamiled-favorite) Grandchild.
My grandmother gave me this suit nearly a decade ago and I never wore it. It’s not that I was waiting for a special occasion, I think I just figured I was too young to know how to spotlight it correctly. So I’ve glanced at it from time to time over the years but never wore it. Recently in my loads of clothes I stumbled upon it again and I thought…”It’s time”. My only regret is that she didn’t get to see me wear it. I also just recently fixed a number of sunglasses she’d given me over time. The lenses in all of the them were so old and worn and scratched up, and now they’re fabulous all over again. She loved seeing me in the things she gave me. So this is just one of the many gifts that I received from my grandmother that ignites the flames within.
These were my grandmother’s shades that I was picking up from the shop.
And finally, my grandma ma:
I love you and I miss you.