Southern Fabulous

I’m reading “Traveling with Pomegranates,” a book by a mother and daughter. It’s about their life changes, how they affect each other and mother-daughter relationships. Ann, the daughter, was making some observations about her mother, and it got me to thinking about my Mama.

My Mama is a big haired, stuck in the 80s/90s, fru-fru, shabby chic, yard sale-ing, junkin’, crazy, Southern fairy. She’s Southern Fabulous, to be exact.

I will never forget the first time Shannon met my Mama. We were headed for lunch and Mama was meeting us to drop something off for me. I was talking to S and paying attention to a million different things. Then I hear Shannon say, “THAT’S your mother, isn’t it? That’s her!”I looked up to see this tiny person in black spandex stretch-pants (where do you buy those anyway??), and a huge, billowing turquoise top lined with frills skipping down the sidewalk carrying a purse made of some combination of vintage handkerchiefs, lace, taffeta and sparkles. Yep, THAT was her! Later that afternoon, amid some since of awe I don’t think she quite grasped, Shannon pronounced Mama “Southern Fabulous.”


I don’t remember her ever embarrassing me. I know she embarrassed Amanda. But I think I was just so enchanted by her that it never occurred to me to be embarrassed. I was proud. Looking back, my desired to imitate her is probably the reason I was less than popular in middle and high school. What a look!


Mama loves perms. She loves big hair. And I was subjected to this from the time I was five until I went to college. I grew out of liking them around the age of 10 and cried each time (every 4 months like clockwork) she took me to get a new perm. It’s the only thing I can think of that I hold against her. Nope, nope- I lied! I hold the matching Christmas pinafores that looked like a copy of the Von Traps’ matching outfits made from curtains, but in a holly pattern and ruffles added. They were bad. And we all had them. And daddy had a matching vest. Awful.

I have no idea where this post is going. My mother is crazy. Yep, point made. My mother is adorable. Pont also made.

Let’s just end with a quote from the book: “I’m filled with love for my mother. The best gift she has given me is the constancy of her belief. Whatever I become, she loves me. To her, I am enough.”

That should clear it up… or not…. What can I say? I take after my mother!