Some of my fondest childhood memories are those of my Mom's accessories. Her gold stretch cuff bracelet was a way of bribing and, at the same time, mesmerizing me into being still on her lap during many a Sunday Service. Her simple but lovely gold wedding band also stole my attention, and she never took it off. I later learned why it wasn't accompanied by an engagement ring: the diamond went missing during her stay in the hospital while having me. Scarves were my next item of intrigue, mostly because the little drawer that contained them was the perfect height for me to get my hands into, but also because I couldn't take my eyes off the rich colors and metallic threads. My older brother apparently felt the same way. Rumor has it that he wore one of these the first time he met his then to be wife of now more than 30 years. As I grew, I discovered a jewelry box high on top of her bureau. My Dad bought this for her while stationed in Okinawa during the Korean war. It is black lacquer with intricate designs inlaid with mother of pearl. Lined in red luxury, the little tasseled drawer inside was the perfect size to imagine storing something wonderful. I don't recall that she ever kept anything in it, but It was prominently displayed to be enjoyed. The leopard print fur collar that I "borrowed" for a high school dance and wore under a black Norma Kamali Edwardian blouse circa 1985 still hangs in my closet. As does this 1960s vintage handbag, reminding me of my style heritage and whispering, "Inspire, Be Inspired, Create".
My mother was and still is a Daddy's girl at heart. She is just as comfortable rewiring the house and going fishing as she is combing tables of hidden treasures with me at bead shows. This is one thing I love about her, and another is that she gave me an affinity toward all things lovely... and many things eclectic.
Isn't she lovely? My mother, Maxine Eller.
Had this picture been in color,
you would see that the jacket is pink.