3 rules i didn't realize i follow...

speaking on a fashion and beauty level, my mother and i share few influences. she: the human embodiment of a cath kidston print, a kate spade ad, clinique’s happy. me: not so much. i’d say my style sense lies somewhere between lazy-chic and, as patty smith has described her own look, “couture-grunge”.

my mom has a gorgeous coif of curls ranging in shades from blonde to bronze to cocoa, her makeup is always classic with a twist (a swipe of gold liner to accent her green eyes? yes.), her bare essencials always lets her peachy-golden skin with pretty california girl freckles shine, and she always, always wears a bright, warm smile. i, on the other hand, have a mop (yes mop, in the most positive but literal sense of the word) of choppy dark brown hair and i like my skin to have a certain pallor to it, better emphasizing the smoky dark brown and black eye makeup i adore so much. i am somewhat warmly monochromatic i suppose. and smile? no. more like stare blankly, like a deer in headlights. and this isn’t even addressing the clothing. i am the daria to her quinn. so yeah, me and mom? totally different sides of the spectrum. 

that said though, i can honestly say that without my moms influence, even in an offhand way, i would know nothing about dressing myself every morning. as i’ve previously mentioned, my mom picked out my clothes until i was somewhere around 10 or 11. though i was naturally full of an angsty feistiness at wanting to pick out my own clothes (i wanted to dress like a cross between cher horowitz and Kelly bundy at the time, i realize in retrospect), the fact that my mom took the time to buy and coordinate nice, age appropriate outfits for me is probably more apparent in the way i shop and carry myself today than it seems. so here, 3 common momma phrases that i (subconsciously) live by:

iron your shirt: i own an iron. it works. still, i rarely iron my shirt (or pants, or cardigan, etc). this lesson has definitely stuck with me though. you see, as a young teen i had a habit of being rushed (i.e. lazy) with getting ready for school in the morning, but no matter what my mom made sure my wrinkled clothing was unwrinkled by the time i walked out the front door. true to my rebellious nature there was always plenty of “oh mom, it looks fine!” on my part, but again, this lesson stuck. unless i am rocking a purposefully wrinkled look, i do not leave my apartment in wrinkled clothing. whether it’s putting on the garment to stretch out the wrinkles, hanging it in the bathroom to steam from my shower, a quickie swipe with the flat iron, or finally actually busting out the iron itself, i make sure to look presentable. at least, in that sense.

you’ll get more use out of this one: shopping as a kid/teen (um, adult?) with my mom. mom says, “look a cute {insert very nice solid color here} shirt. this would be perfect for you to wear to school with your very nice, basic blue jeans.”. to which i reply, “but mooooooom, i want the hot pink cheetah print tank top and sparkly black bell bottoms!!”. cheetah print and sparkles are great, but versatile? not a chance. my mom has never, ever tried to extinguish individuality in either my sister or myself, rather she encourages it. she let us splurge on impractical things here and there when she could (me: freshman year, snakeskin print pants with the slightest hint of a sparkle. true story. sister: pink hair. blue hair. lots of other colors of hair. no hair. not to mention the many piercings between the two of us…).but she is a practical single parent. she knows the mileage that one can get out of the basics, and the endless customization that can occur with the right accessories. and thanks to her, so do i. my cute {insert very nice solid color here} shirt is usually black, often a bit oversized, sometimes cut or customized. my personal style is very much determined by the accessories i add to a basic black (or similarly monochromatic) ensemble. my moms lesson still rings true.

don’t go so dark on your eyes: if my mom hadn’t taught me the right way to wear makeup (balance!! omigod, balance!!) there’s a chance that i could look like taylor momsen right now. i’m honestly not trying to be catty, but there is a point where the black eye shadow thing is just too much. however i would never know this limit if i hadn’t tried to push it many times over the past 13 years. when i was 13 i got my first black eyeliner and black shadow. i tried to go all smoldering, which more likely looked creepy, especially when i added the red lipstick. oi. . my mom wasn’t having it, and i thank her for it. before i ever read it in any magazine, my mom taught me about moderation, and also the one-or-the-other rule. like i stated above, i am no stranger to rocking a smoky, borderline dingy eye today. sounds icky, but i like it. its slightly unkempt, a little helena bonham carter, but i always keep the lip simple, usually just a swipe of clear gloss. i try to always maintain the balance my mom so painstakingly tried and succeeded in teaching me.

in conclusion: am i a grungebunny? yes. am i admittedly lazy in several aspects of my life? hell yes. am i always gonna have an affinity for the beauty that is lydia from beetlejuice, nancy spungen (and subsequently courtney love), and siouxie sioux? yes, i believe i will. but with these rules somehow always chilling in the back of my mind, i manage to keep it classic. that is, if there’s such a thing as a classic grungebunny.

thanks momma. <3

XxxXchi