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The Queen of Bling

 

I was rummaging through my make-up drawer the other day when I found a compact. For those of you who are not old enough to remember “compacts,” it was a small square or round container that held face powder, Back in the day, a woman would keep the compact in her purse so she could discreetly powder her nose and face when out in public.

Now that I’ve totally dated myself, I’ll continue with my story.

The compact I found was the first one I owned. My mother gave it to me for my thirteenth birthday. It was gorgeous and I fell in love with it immediately. It had a shiny gold finish and the clasp was a circle of “diamonds” with a flower design in the middle of the circle. As a teenager, I felt like a queen every time I used it.Image

As I looked at the compact, I realized it was my first piece of “bling,” and it is what started my love of “bling.” I thought of my mother and how much jewelry she had when I was a child and teenager.  It seems like she had three jewelry boxes—full to overflowing—plus this little plastic hanger on which necklaces could be hung. When she dressed for church every Sunday, everything matched – jewelry, shoes, purse, and outfit. And her compact was in her purse. When she was going to “town,” (i.e., shopping) the casual outfit she chose to wear that day had matching, or at least, complimentary jewelry.  And her compact was in her purse.

I’ve always felt like I did not have much in common with my mother. Don’t get me wrong – I love her and she loves me. But she had all of these wonderful domestic qualities—four letter words such as bake, cook, iron—and other words like sew, clean, crochet. My sister inherited those genes, and I got my dad’s organizational and administrative DNA, which has served me well in the business world. But I wanted something to connect me closer with my mother. And now I have it. My mother passed her love of bling on to me.

 

 

  

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