Dress Like You Have Somewhere to Go

I never cared about the way that I looked to the world, but my Mother did. She believed when we were in public we needed to look like we had somewhere to go and as a result the fashion choices my Mother made on my behalf (as a child) were her idea. My socks were the same color as my shirt, my shoes were always clean and my hair was always done.

As an adult, I strayed away from the appearance she wanted me to have and I did my own thing. This included, wearing my hair in a ponytail (shortly after I had gotten it done), wearing sweatpants in public and driving a dirty car (yep my appearance extended to my car as well).

When I would show up to her house or to church in a less than desirable manner she would look at me and roll her eyes. If my hair was too straight, if my shirt was too wrinkled or if my clothes were a little snug because I gained weight, she made a face. Not only would she make a face she would roll her eyes and proceed to pout.

My Mother was tough and she didn’t play when it came to my appearance. She believed I was a reflection of her and she raised me to dress well. I understood why she held this belief, she came from a line of women who were seamstresses after all, but I didn’t like living up to it.

The truth of the matter was, I didn’t want to be known for my appearance, I wanted to be known for my intelligence but my Mother wanted me to be known for both.

Sometimes things became rough for me and I found myself spending hours in the mirror making sure my hair was ok before I would see her.

If things didn’t work out so well with my appearance, I would immediately tell her that I tried to look my best to avoid the look on her face. Sometimes she took it easy on me and other times she remained annoyed, but that was her.

She took pride in her appearance, and she wanted me to take pride in my appearance as well.

Now that she’s passed on, I find myself, looking in the mirror and thinking of her. If my hair is unkempt, I make sure I get it done, if my clothes don’t fit like they should, I head to the gym and if my car is dirty, I make sure I get it washed before I pull up to someone’s house.

My Mother was relentless when it came to my appearance but I finally understand why. She knew she wouldn’t always be here so she made sure that her oldest daughter represented her in the manner in which she wanted.

My Mother taught me well and I am grateful for the lesson.