Your wallets have taken vivid residence in my imagination. The red ones, the patterned, those made wholly of duct tape. One belonging to your father, to your friend’s father, to your son, to a younger you. To a very young you.
Few remember their mother’s wallet. Makes you think. Perhaps our children will remember ours. However they get filled, via salary, supporting a spouse, or inheritance, they are likely opened most often for our kids. I almost imagine an old-fashioned alphabet book, applesauce, buckled shoes, college, degree.
The winner, chosen by www.randomnumber.org, is Southern Living Preppy Style. Congratulations Mrs. SLPS! Please send me your snail mail adddress, and I hope your cute girls remember it!
I really can’t thank you all enough for participating. I’ll give the Blake Satchel away next week. First I will consult my cobbler, to see what he says about repairs, and then I’ll post it with full disclosure.
Always as true as I can make it, gladdened by your stories.
4 Responses
Congratulations to the winner, a favorite blogger of mine.
I did not enter as I had just received a new wallet for my birthday and love it!
Oh and I do adore your Tory Burch dress; the color is perfect!
Xoxo
Karena
Art by Karena
I hope you will come and join my Giveaway from Interieurs! It is from the Jose Esteves Collection!
I’m just catching up on blogs and saw this! How exciting! I will email you shortly and thank you! Mrs. SLPS.
I do remember my mother’s wallet. It was brown leather, always bulging, spilling at the seams, because she paid cash for everything, as she had been raised never to take on debt and because, remembering the stories her parents told of the Depression, she was terrified of banks and comforted by having an adequate supply of money with her. Now when I visit, I insist on opening my wallet for *her*, but when I depart she still tries to put a hundred dollars in my pocket, even though she now receives Social Security. It’s a mothering urge, a current of maternal anxiety that cannot ever be completely shut down, but it seems to be alleviated by instead taking me out for Sunday brunch at her favorite diner.
Put a some money in the wallet too, for good luck (according to Chinese tradition). Although I’m probably too late…
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