For my 16th birthday, my mother bought me a blazer and matching skirt from the Gap. I guess you’d call that a suit. It was a navy blue suit, beautifully tailored, and I hated its guts. The suit accompanied tickets to Houston Ballet’s production of The Nutcracker which was a super thoughtful surprise as I’d fallen completely in love with dancing around that time. Here’s the thing about my mother: she was and probably always will be far more fashionable and refined than I’ll ever be. And I think she hoped that I would inherit her sense of style (I am 100% certain I would have done the same had I mothered a daughter). But that was not the case.
She wanted me in pleats, I wanted me in ripped denim. She wanted me in tea length skirts and I wanted me in white bell bottoms with painted silver stars. I was a pretty good kid and I think maybe this was my mild form of rebellion. I never verbally protested, but I carried my jowls and shoulders and eyes like picket signs. And sometimes I’d make those pieces that made me cringe the most disappear.* When I saw Michelle at her shop Chic’Tique yesterday, I remembered that navy blue blazer and I smiled. Partly because it brought back memories of that night at The Nutcracker. But mainly because I realized my mom was right all along – blazers are good.
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*I’m so sorry, Mama!
Michelle is wearing…
blazer, chic’tique / tank, chic’tique / bralette, target / belt, chic’tique / jeans, topshop / sandals, Target / earrings, chic’tique
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