Mother Knows Best

Before I go any further, I'd like to pay homage to the person who encouraged me to find and flaunt my beauty - my Momma.

Louise, usually referred to as Ms. Louise, was a firm believer that a woman should look her best at all times because "you never know who you'll run into" when you leave home, even if you were only going as far as the neighborhood drug store.

A dark complected woman, she ALWAYS kept your natural nails freshly polished in various shades of dark red and browns; and she NEVER left home without at least wearing lipstick and mascara. Ms. Louise rarely wore jeans and wore tennis on the most seldom of occasions.

Her dresser was a princess's fantasy. In the center sat a large oval tray, with a mirror bottom and gold filigree trim that stood about an inch high....this was just for the nail shades and lip colors. There were about four 5 inch tall porcelain oriental cups that held brushes, eyeliners, lip pencils and all of the other necessities for a perfectly put together face. In the corner of the dresser was also a manicure stand - not a kit, or a bag, but a stand; complete with grooves for you to rest your fingers as you polished your nails. And of course several bottles of perfume.

When I was 2 years old my Momma began pressing my hair. As I got older and understood the dangers associated with having a smoking hot comb passed through your hair, this process made me a nervous wreck with fears that she would burn me. Combing through my long, thick, coarse hair after washing it and sweating through having it pressed was how I learned that "you have to suffer to be beautiful" as I was frequently reminded of this during hair washings. It was also during this beauty ritual that I learned "a woman's hair is her glory."

At 5 she began polishing my toes, calling the finished product "sexy toes." Imagine a 5 year old running around talking bout "I want sexy toes!" when it was time for a fresh polish. At about 13 or 14 she told me it was time I started to where lipstick regularly. I think the first time I put on a full face of make-up by myself was actually one of her proudest moments as a Mother.

Don't be fooled. Although my Momma was probably a priss-pot by anyone's standards, she was not a superficial person. She grew up sharecropping in Mississippi alongside her parents and ten brothers and sisters, so she wasn't afraid of hard work or getting her hands dirty. Her perfect manicure never prevented her from cooking or house cleaning - without gloves I might add.  My Momma took on many projects around the house that I'm sure several women, including myself, would have been intimidated by. She also loved God and she loved and nurtured her family - unconditionally. The values she passed down to me reach far beyond looking pretty.

So cheers to Momma who's now in a place where there's no need for manicures or lipstick, as I'm sure her crown and the jewels that adorn it says it all.

I love you Ma. ;-)