Didn't I Feed You Yesterday__ A Mother's Guide to Sanity in Stilettos - Laura Bennett [43]
My second Hermès bag was purchased during a trip to Paris with my husband. Brand-new, from the store on the Faubourg Saint Honoré. That was a real thrill. The bag came with all the accoutrements: a big orange box, brown ribbon, scads of tissue, a rain cover, and an orange flannel dust cover. I chose a sleek black Kelly bag in box calf. The Kelly bag is named for Grace Kelly, who carried one to cover her pregnancy; I looked like royalty myself sporting that bag around Paris. I love the bag’s prim and proper shape, and the way it makes me feel always follows suit.
It was many years later that I received my third Hermès bag. Because I was the owner of classics in brown and black, I could afford to go a bit wild with this one. As a gift from Peter on the birth of my sixth child, I received an orange Haute à Courier with silver hardware. Similar to a Birkin, but with slightly different proportions, this bag is for fun. To me, it is the little red sports car of purses.
THIS SHOULD BE THE FIRST COMMANDMENT IN THE FASHION BIBLE: Thou Shalt Have a Little Black Dress. We have Coco to thank for that genius stroke as well. I came across my version in what was perhaps my most penniless time, just after my divorce and a few years after I had moved with my daughter to New York City. I was cruising the sale racks of T. J. Maxx, which is like saying I was walking around the pound looking for a Norwegian Lundehund, and there it was: an ankle-length Donna Karan with empire waist and scoop neck, for $14.95. It wasn’t much to look at on the rack, but I’d been refashioning bargain clothes since I was ten and knew in an instant that if I took the hem up over the knee the dress would be exquisite on me. I’ve always had that knack, I guess, and mainly have my mom to thank—she was a sewing teacher and I learned everything I know at her elbow, the way some kids learn to bake cookies.
I was wearing that little black dress the night I met Peter, and then again on our first date. I’ve worn it between pregnancies, during pregnancies, and after pregnancies; I even rolled it out (with some lengthening) on the runway when I introduced my line of evening wear in Bryant Park, in front of the cameras, six months pregnant with Finn. I won’t be surprised if they decide to bury me in that dress when I’m old and small and gray.
My passion for fashion may seem excessive, but remember: I live in a house full of destructive boys. My personal luxuries are the only things I can protect, the only things that don’t get destroyed. Now is not the time for me to enjoy a porcelain collection, or nice furniture; and I really think Mame would approve.
If you think fashion is a venture for the intellectually inferior, I challenge you to give it a try. Dressing better will make you feel better. Who can deny the psychological lift of a new hairstyle or a well-cut dress? How about the feeling of “I’m worth it” that comes from a luxurious cashmere sweater, or the confidence you feel at work when you appear taller, slimmer, and more powerful in a great pair of heels? What we wear sends an unspoken message. It shows that you have taken the time to treat yourself well, and that others should, too. I say dress up every day; you never know when you’re going to meet your next husband. Be exuberant, celebrate occasions large and small in how you dress, and remember, everyone appreciates glamour.
“I will proudly walk into my fifties with my ass held high, thanks to my power panties.”
THE LAURA BENNETT DIET™
A FEW YEARS AGO I WAS AT A SAMPLE SALE for one of my favorite