My mother was a manic version of Martha Stewart. She could do anything in the realm of home economics well, if a bit overzealously. Back to school meant a dash to Corcoran’s in Harvard Square for a few yards of fabric and several nights bent over the dining room table, snipping Vogue patterns and furiously stitching them up on her turquoise Singer. This inspired flurry of activity produced outfits that were nothing short of chic. When I was about 8 years old, she whipped up a few ensembles of geometric printed tunic tops with matching “hot pants”. I cannot begin to tell you how stylish I thought these were and the commotion they caused at school. Those petite pantsuits may have been the last things she sewed for me, because shortly thereafter she traded her sewing machine for a typewriter and joined the workforce. I hadn’t considered them for a long time, until I cracked the mammoth September Vogue and had a peek at Prada’s fall collection. The geometric, almost Escheresque jackets with matching skinny pants are pretty close to my third grade wardrobe. A life in the fashion industry has drummed the desire for the next big thing out of me, but I’m sorely tempted this time. That girl in the purple pantsuit at the Stop & Shop just might be me!

love,

erica