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Showing posts with label my mother. Show all posts
Showing posts with label my mother. Show all posts
Friday, May 6, 2011
Fetes Des Meres, original watercolor - watercolor, 9" x 11"If you live in the US this Sunday is Fetes Des Meres day or Mother's Day.
You are probably rushing around and getting on lines to buy some dragees (candy-coated almonds) for Mum (if you live in Paris that is).
These pretty cornets are from Laduree...
Dragees are given on every celebratory occasion - weddings, babtisms, you name it. 
And usually in pastel colors...
Bon Marche had jar after big jar of brilliantly colored dragee as well as the pretty pastels.
I spoted these BLUE dragee in a gift shop in the Marais.. Blue food used to be a no-no.
And they come ready wrapped as favors for a kid's party...
Then there is always the ever present macaron - the perfect gift for anyone at all. Pierre Herme sent out an email titled, "Have you called your mother?" And Aquarelle.com sent one today with the message, "Fete des Meres: c'est maintenant ou jamais !" (Mother's Day: It's now or never! Buy a bouquet!) Of course if you're not in Paris you don't have to lift a finger. Been there, done that already. This is a repost. I nearly forgot! Too busy. Here's an interesting story about a strong mum.
BONJOUR LES MERES!
Friday, April 23, 2010
My mother's clothes were filled with magic. I loved watching her dress for a party. I loved exploring her closet when she was out. Her clothes were the gateway to the mysterious world of adults.
When I discovered Jeannette Montgomery Barron's book on her mother's clothes in Paris...
First at elegant Galignani...
Then at the musee des arts decoratifs I was captivated...
Her mother's fashion notes...
Reminded me of my own mother's design school sketches. And my mother's ever present dreams of becoming a fashion designer. There were many parallels, like Jeannette's mother's obsession with fashion. While her mother bought the best - Bill Blass, Norman Norrell, Yves Saint Laurent, my mother only dreamed of those names. Together we sleuthed the best shops to examine and plot, so my mother could go home and sew up her own versions. Like Jeanette's push/pull tug of war with her mother, I too did not want to be fashionable as an adolecent. I did NOT want to become a fashion designer. No way! So many memories surfaced while paging through Jeannette's book that I had to get in touch with her. We started emailing...
Last night I went to her book party...
At Kate Spade on 454 Broome street.
The champagne was flowing...
People were lining up...
To get their books signed...
And signed
There was hardly a moment to say hello. And say "Thank you" for reconnecting me with memories of my mother...
Jeannette has photographed many artists - Francesco Clemente, Keith Haring, Jean-Michel Basquiat. No wonder the pictures of her mother's clothes are like paintings. Her work will be in the Staley-Wise gallery.
As I was sleuthing around shooting, Jeannette recognized me from my blog photo with the giant red goggles! I've lost my anonymity but it was a delight to meet her.
Kate Spade is the perfect home for Jeannette's very beautiful book.
My Mother's Clothes, works as the perfect accessory to carry under you arm.
Leaving the shop, I noticed the sign...
Jeannette has photographed many artists - Francesco Clemente, Keith Haring, Jean-Michel Basquiat. No wonder the pictures of her mother's clothes are like paintings. Her work will be in the Staley-Wise gallery.
As I was sleuthing around shooting, Jeannette recognized me from my blog photo with the giant red goggles! I've lost my anonymity but it was a delight to meet her.
Kate Spade is the perfect home for Jeannette's very beautiful book. My Mother's Clothes, works as the perfect accessory to carry under you arm.
Leaving the shop, I noticed the sign...WE LOVE OUR MOMS
Ain't that the truth.
There's so much I haven't told you about Jeannette's book...
But her video says it all.
MERCI JEANNETTE!
Friday, August 10, 2007
My father always thought he looked a little like the movie star Gary Cooper. Putting this post together I can see a resemblance...
"Coop" was the strong, silent type.And my dad certainly had his quiet moments.
Plus my dad owned The Princess Movie theater in a small town in Iowa during the Depression, so he had plenty of chances to keep an eye on Coop.
My father was 6'2" tall with green eyes, red hair and freckles. Here he is, looking ever the proud groom when he married my mother, a city slicker from the East.
His mother died when he was just 16, so he ran away from home (Iowa).He joined the Royal Canadian air force and flew crates over France.He never got to go to college but he loved to recite Walt Whitman and other poets from memory.
Like me, he had a varied work life. He won ice skating contests, rolled logs, sold ladies shoes until a jilted date walked in the front door and he ran out the back.
He was a terrific dancer and he won my Mom's heart on the dance floor. I was supposed to be a boy, "Charles". So I went with my dad on fishing jaunts, to baseball games and the hardware store. I loved learning to put a worm on the hook and eating ballpark hotdogs. I still love snooping around hardware stores and pastry shops.
My parents used to fight over my future - what would I do when I grew up.My mother wanted me to go to art school, actually fashion design school in fact. My dad nixed that. I could only go if I became an art teacher. I was not consulted...
If they only knew how I've run the gamut
An old generational photo - me, my dog Pumpkin, my father and my two petites nieces, Anabel and Louisa. Recently I found an old letter my dad wrote me a few years before he died...
Dear Carol,Just a note to say all is well including Pumpkin(my poodle), who is enjoying the cool sea breezes. Your itinerary sounds very exciting (I was in North Africa researching a book on souks) and I am sure that you will have a grand time along with your work.
I am so proud of you to have accomplished all of this on your own. I realize how hard it is to break in, in New York, as competition is so keen. You're well on the way and things will come much easier, now that you know how to do things as well as being a full fledged authoress. (ref:Street Markets book)
As you look back you will appreciate the hard work and seemingly unrewarding efforts, but now everything is beginning to fall in place.
Best of luck, drop a card or a little note when you have time
Love
Dad
It does sounds like a letter Gary Cooper would write...
Friday, August 3, 2007
Yesterday I went to see the Paul Poiret fashion exhibit at the Met. It closes Saturday so you better run.
At the exhibit all I could think of was my mother, Isabel...She always wanted to be a fashion designer. Her family was against it, but she won a scholarship to Moore College of Art in Philadelphia.
I only discovered after she died, that she'd graduated at the top of her class with the best fashion design collection in 10 years! I found an old newspaper clipping she'd never shown me...
She did get to work briefly as an assistent to a reknown Philadelphia hat designer. Part of her duties were chauffeuring him around town. Hmmm...then her parents wanted her to "chauffeur" them out to a hot springs resort in California and she quit her design job - end of her dreams of a design career.
Out there she met my father, they danced and 3 days later he proposed. 
My mother designed and made her own bias-cut silk wedding dress.
My mother often used me as a foil. Together we'd go sleuthing in designer shops. She'd try on and secretly examine the inner construction of posh dresses. Then she'd go home and create her own version. We made doll clothes together. Her plan for me was for me to go to design school and complete her dreams of becoming a fashion designer.
Naturally I was having none of it. I was REBELLIOUS!
I did go to art school. I went to many art schools. Don't ask how many. All I did was draw. I had not one ounce of ambition to do ANYTHING. I was 24 when my mother died. Suddenly I had to go to design school. I had to become the fashion designer she'd always wanted herself. I dashed off to Parson School of Design in New York. I did work on 7th Avenue for 10 years. Then, by chance, I fell into shoe designing and so many other professions.
I did go to art school. I went to many art schools. Don't ask how many. All I did was draw. I had not one ounce of ambition to do ANYTHING. I was 24 when my mother died. Suddenly I had to go to design school. I had to become the fashion designer she'd always wanted herself. I dashed off to Parson School of Design in New York. I did work on 7th Avenue for 10 years. Then, by chance, I fell into shoe designing and so many other professions.
And the rest is, well, my crazy career history...
My path has been so twisty turny...I LOVE what I'm doing now - Paris macaron watercolors etc.
But who knows where the road turns next? Did I mention my Mom painted and I still use her old watercolor box?
Mom, I hope I've done you proud.
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