STYLE Wardrobe 101

It’s not easy having a fashion editor for a mother. At 7, my daughter Erin asked, “Mom, why can’t you wear normal clothes to PTA like all the other moms?” Normal at Preston Hollow Elementary at that time had something to do with a prairie skirt and a concha belt, not a look I’d invested in heavily, having long subscribed to a wardrobing system that involved exchanging one good piece of black clothing for another. At around 9, “everybody” picked up on Madonna, whose sensual pout, petticoats and lace gloves had been instantly translated into fodder for the preteen department. Overnight, girls who still had Barbies in their rooms began wearing the kind of stuff that garbed Jodie Foster in Taxi Driver. Erin suffered alone and in denim. Somewhere about 11 we began to practice hair and makeup in an attempt to ward off the onslaught of cosmetic madness that hits at that age. I( wasn’t easy, but Erin ultimately learned to appreciate my less-is-more attitude. She is now 17 and a senior at Woodrow Wilson High School, and we have achieved the sort of wardrobe symbiosis that can only happen to a mom and daughter who have fought hemline battles, skirmished over personal style and remained friends. Somewhere in there Erin developed a sense of what works for her and maintained an amazing tolerance for what her mother wears. With the first day of school approaching, Erin and I recently went shopping. I prodded, and she made the decisions. The result was a sort of nouveau-prep look, which is Erin’s own style for the most part. I might add that years of bystanding at photo shoots and helping me repack and return designer samples have resulted in a certain upper-end eye for Miss Erin. A year from now, when our closets must divide in preparation for her college departure, there will be wardrobe trauma, not to mention financial chaos. And I’ll miss her terribly.