A couple of years ago my dad scanned a bunch of family photos for me, which must have taken forever. I love them, though, in part because I can trot them out on holidays like this to make a point. Today's point is that I remember my mom having two very distinct looks when I was growing up, and corresponding personality traits. Rather than transitioning over time from one to the other, however, she switched back and forth — effortlessly, it seemed — and to me this was terribly sophisticated. I loved them both, and still do.
This is the Joan Baez-singing, guitar-playing hippie mom, who later morphed into a hardy, horse-breaking country mom when we moved to rural Washington.
And this is the coiffed, red lipstick-wearing glamour mom that went to parties smelling oh-so-tastefully of Chanel N°5.