Dot, my grandmother, is a star. She’s my Memi (me – my), my rock, my inspiration, and my twin. A constant confidant, a loyal advisor, and a former playmate, my Memi is my idol, role model, and fashion icon.
If you were to take a look at pictures of my Memi in her twenties, you instantly can tell – I am a product of her. Our
unruly wavy hair, mischievously toothy grin, and classically plain (but pointedly styled and contemplated) attire is of one in the same. I can assure you that there is no one that I would rather look like both in style and genetics.
I could gaze at the sassily stylish pictures of Memi and her friends’ brief 1951 stint spent in Washington D.C., for days on end. During her time spent in D.C., Memi always had to look her best. After all, one never knows when they will end up in the same elevator as J. Edgar Hoover. Memi’s D.C. style was on trend, her look beautifully classic, and her face beaming with carefree joy. And not much has changed – not really, anyway. Although her shoes may be a little more cushioned and her skirts a little longer, her smile gleams just as bright, if not gorgeously brighter. And regardless of what she is sporting from head to toe, she is always wearing a smile from ear to ear.