I like the fact that none of my stylistic preferences are unique to me--most of them come from celebrities, drag queens, and my family. Lately, I've started to notice that I can thank my wonderful grandma for some of my more ostentatious tastes. I mean, with a name like Vivian Vincent, you've got to be a little flashy, right? I can remember when I first began to look at my grandma as someone who had a distinct style that went beyond applique sweatshirts. It was when we found her and my grandpa's wedding announcement that ran in their town's newspaper.
Truly, I don't remember much about it besides the description of her wedding dress, and more specifically, the pink veil that accompanied it. Now, we're not talking Gwen Stefani punk-pink, but reading that made me smile and think "yeah...grammy knows what's going on." I've thought that several times since--when I found out that she owned and wore gold booties, for instance, and whenever I caught a glance of her costume jewelry collection.
She kept her earrings on this netted board contraption--which I'm making sound far more conceptual and revolutionary than it is--and I loved to just look at them. She had the standard crystal studs and colored hearts, but then I would see the big white shells and neck-grazing Native American beaded danglers, and all I wanted to do was wear them RIGHT NOW and WHY AREN'T MY EARS PIERCED YET?
The best part of her "jewels" and my perception of her style? I don't think that my grandma spent any more time than was absolutely necessary on her looks. She cared about her family and her faith far more than she did about buying a pair of pumps or primping herself. And that's why I love that she still had such silly and fabulous things. She showed me that fashion doesn't have to be one's top priority in order to have fun with it.
Luckily, I now have most of my grandma's costume jewelry. And in its original storage, no less! I have the netted board contraption, an old Oil of Olay plastic box, and an embroidered heart-shaped box full of gaudy treasures that I wish I could have seen her wear more. Instead of wishing though, I snap her silver snake cuff on my wrist and thread the Native American-inspired earrings through my now-pierced lobes and smile. Because that's what my gold bootie-wearin' grandma would want.
3 comments:
Perfect. I love it. Dad needs to read this if he hasn't already.
Awww, thank you. I don't know if he has, and I was kind of afraid to write it in case he didn't like it. But now, I will show him.
Gram's priorities were indeed as you observed: she would be proud of your intuition,as well as pleased by your embrace of her sense of adornment. But you had to see those RED patent booties on her size sevens to really get a sense of individuality! Not Manolos, but they didn't have to be -- and your genetic heritage is proven by your unique take on dressing. You have nothing to fear when writing truthfully and you've warmed my heart with rekindled memories.
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