Mononazo - Nice flood they might be giants shirt

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Like many Black women of her era and still today, my Mom didn’t want to just look fabulous, she wanted to be fabulous. She fully realized the Nice flood they might be giants shirt and by the same token and concept of style and substance and knew that she commanded a certain amount of respect, acceptance, and power because of the way she dressed. In many ways my Mother was light-years ahead of her time—centering herself while simultaneously practicing work/life balance. I remember her referring to herself often as “a liberated woman.” While many Black women struggle with the feminist movement and their visibility in it, Mom was exercising that ideology. She attended law school part time while working a full time job and pregnant with my older brother Erik. A married, pregnant Black woman in law school in the early ’60s was definitely an anomaly—a force to be reckoned with. One of my most defining fashion memories of my Mother was when she came to my high school to speak to my social studies class for Black History Month. She walked into the classroom wearing a red ultrasuede Halston belted shirt dress, tall black leather boots, giant brown Christian Dior glasses, and a full-length sable mink coat over her shoulders. It seemed normal to me, but my classmates giggled and snickered. I remember feeling threatened by their childish ridicule of my Mother (was it racist or immature?). And in my mind, I wondered why their mothers were so basic in their elastic waistband pants and bland matching sweater twin sets. Ironically, my Mom spoke about the defiant Harriet Tubman who led slaves to freedom from the South to the North. “Get on board little children, get on board,” she repeated. A double entendre of the highest order.

It was at that moment that I realized my Mother’s style and fashion sense was exactly that, her own. All the Nice flood they might be giants shirt and by the same token and beauty, power, and brilliance inside of her was manifested in what she wore and how she wore it. In the ’80s she went through a Nolan Miller phase that was similar to Diahann Carroll’s character Dominique Deveraux on Dynasty—shoulder pads, short waist suits in soft colors with a black fox-fur stole. Lots of St. John Knits suits in orange or magenta. When she became an administrative law judge, she would talk about men coming into her hearings and looking her up and down asking: “Where is the judge?” Her pat and deadpan response: “You’re looking at her.”After my Mother retired, her style took a new turn. She began quilting more—a skill she learned as a young girl. She would create these fantastic tunics, kaftans, and skirts made from pieces of materials from her life: her wedding gown, my Brother’s christening gown, my tropical print shirt, everything and anything was up cycled in this tapestry. Two of her quilts are now part of the Smithsonian Institute’s permanent collection. When my Father died, she made a coat out of all of the fabulous ties (Christian Dior, Gucci, and Givenchy) that she had given him over the years. A beautiful homage to her husband and a way to keep his spirit close to hers. I remember her declaring to me one day that she wanted to become an artist. I said: “You already are, but read The Artist Way. That should help.” Always a quick study, she began to create a statement necklace that would become her pièce de résistance. A Cleopatra-like collar covered with her engagement ring, sorority pin, my Father’s watch, pieces of jewelry, rare foreign coins, and pieces of her life as a work of art. My Mother battled congestive heart failure for three years before succumbing to the disease. During that time, she literally refused to die and her love for fashion seemed to give her life and energy to go on. She became obsessed with a colorful Valentino silk gown pieced together with ruffles cascading to the floor. It was sold out at Bergdorfs and I was sent on a mission to find that gown. Unsuccessful, she then pivoted to a white eyelet embroidered gown by Dolce and Gabbana. I was ordered to go to the Madison Avenue boutique to inspect it to ensure that it was befitting. It was.

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