MARY, MARY, QUITE CONTRARY!

It was with great sadness that I saw one of my 'icons' had passed away.  Dame Mary Quant was 93 and although her influence on the fashion world (hence, no doubt, the dameship) she would never know (again, not knowing me) how much she had influenced me.  A woman in a man's world, during the sixties, she was one of the reasons I often joke that I was 'born too late'.  Much as I have never really thought of myself as a 'feminist', as I enjoy being 'cared for' and treated as a 'lady', (again, I strived to be a lady like my mother, but there is too much of my dad in me,) there is a world of difference between being treated with respect, and looked after, than being treated as if you are less than intelligent and capable.  As a youngster, I looked at Mary (and I feel I knew her well enough to call her by her first name, despite her not knowing of my existence) as my mentor, and dare I say, guru!  The simplicity of her five petal flower logo was seen everywhere, when I was a kid. I never had the shape per se, to wear her designs, but that matters not one whit now that I am a sexagenarian!  Again, I strive to be a lady like my mother, and dress age appropriately, but sometimes, Mary whispers in my ear, "You can do it!"

I felt less than 'vibrant' on Sunday.  Energy was not a problem, but I chose to 'slack' in the evening.  The dogs were collected, and I fell asleep watching the television at around 9:30pm, and woke at a little after ten, wide awake but feeling quite content at not having to actually move.  I have often used the reference, 'like banging your head against a brick wall; it is nice when it stops'.  Much as there is such a lot wrong with that phrase, not least of all the word 'nice', it is a good analogy.  I do not really object to having the dogs, as it does keep me fit and alert, but I much prefer it when I am not responsible for them!  Suffice it to say, I felt rather free! 

After all the rain last week, the ground was surprisingly dry, and the temperature was due to rise above and beyond what was seasonal. Of course, the word 'seasonal' can never be taken 'literally' here, as it is always so changeable.  The expected rain on Monday turned into a sprinkling shower which lasted a couple of minutes.  It was warm, unseasonably so, but I was hopeful my plants would benefit. 

Not having the dogs overnight was a blessing, but the larger of the two had to go and see the vet.  That meant we were left with the little one, and the baby for the best part of an hour.  I did not object to looking after my grandson, as he is such a joy, but I was, once again, put in charge of an animal, and they do not wear 'diapers'.  'Walkies' are expected!

Clearing out my wardrobe (again) was long overdue.  I can't say I was surprised to find something that I had purchased, a while back, and had not worn.  It is always much better to buy 'last seasons' items at a reduced rate, and wait for the next season to come round to be the 'last season's model'.  I doubt Dame Mary was ever 'last season'.  I am sure she could reinvent something to be her own and change 'last season' into 'future' wonderment!  I looked at the dress, white down one side, black down the other, and marveled at how pretty it was, and wondered when would be a good day to wear it!  Rain was forecast again, and despite there being no sign of clouds or moisture, I did not want to take a chance.  I would be letting Mary down!  Instead, I took it from its cover and hung it back up in the wardrobe, with most else I had taken out and decided was not quite ready to go to the 'collection' box.

"I am a hoarder", I admitted to one of our servers, 'in the field'.  Our colleague from Corpus Christi is advising me on a new way to grow my vegetables, and we are swapping notes, constantly.  "Oh my goodness! I knew there was another reason why I like you!" she said, and we swapped notes on what we do not throw away.  I commented on the 'two year' rule, that someone had decided was a good idea.  If you do not use something within two years, then you wont use it, and throw it away.  "Is it two years?" I asked my friend.  She did not know the exact time.  I wondered if I had made up the time, just to give myself more time to throw things away. "Maybe it's a year?" I mused. However, we both agreed that if you have not used something in ten years, and throw it away, you will need it the very next day! "Not my brother", she said.  "He just throws things away if he hasn't used it in a couple of weeks!"  We agreed he was obviously mad!

Joe was roasting coffee when I arrived at the roastery.  We had run out!  I had not been to visit for such a long time, and drove across to the southside to replenish our supplies.  "You will have to ask one of the guys in the front", he said, as my usual person had not yet arrived. "Just tell him what you want, and how much you want to pay", said Joe, with a cheeky grin on his face. Naturally, we have always paid Joe for coffee, but he refuses to increase the amount, despite his prices rising over the years.  If I try to pay more, he hands me a 'free' box every so often in lieu of overpayment!  A friend indeed! I had seen one of the young men as I had arrived, and mistaken him for a vagrant as he marched across the fields at the side of the 'factory'.  When he approached the building, I must admit I was a little apprehensive, as he came striding in my direction, and whilst I love the 'power' metaphorically given to me by Mary and her peers, it is 'metaphoric', and a sexagenarian running, in a pair of heels, from an adolescent who could be the next WBA contender, is not a difficult sum to calculate!  However, as I made my way to the door, and he called to let me know it was locked, I realised that he was friend and not foe.  Of course, I am not insinuating that all vagrants are 'foe', and I am not suggesting that kindness and compassion should not be shown to vagrants!  Of course, I am digging myself into a deeper and deeper hole!  What would Mary do?  I strode in through the 'right' door, which was held open by 'Cinderella Man' (although Russell Crowe he was not) and thanked him in my best English.  However, I digress.  I had to ask this young (very) man for some coffee.  I had no idea what I usually had but just a few bags of any variety (not decaf) would suffice.  "I shall be in the other room with Joe", I said, as if I was a VIP!  He appeared a few minutes later to tell me that my coffee was ready, and stammered as he told me.  Perhaps I am a VIP!

It was Thursday that I saw the news about Mary.  I was glad that she had been a 'decent' age, but it just made me aware of my own mortality. However, it was a bit of a shock to see that she was older than my mother!  She had always seemed so young and vibrant.  "Mary Quant died", I texted my daughter.  "The black and white lady" she responded.  Although she had various styles in vibrant colours, my everlasting memory of her was the pageboy haircut, and 'block' black and white square dresses.  They were striking.  A Quant model I would never have been, but I would have quite happily have modelled the dresses just for fun. "You can wear your new dress tomorrow.  In her memory", said Samantha.

Rain was expected again on Friday, but it was hot.  Temperatures were due to go above eighty.  I took out my dress from the wardrobe, and dropped it on a black jacket, that I had taken out previously. It was with horror that I noticed the darker colour was blue!  Not horrific, you understand, as a navy and white dress is rather stunning in its own right, but it was not 'Mary'.  It was more 'nautical' and that would have to be for another day!  There was no way I could wear the black and white skirt, with matching boots, as it would be too hot for boots.  Oh Mary, I am so sorry.  I shall have to show my respects another day!  I wore black, in reverence (that is my story!) and strode out to the car port to climb into my ride!

Ninety one degrees was expected for Saturday, and this sexagenarian was dressed quite inappropriately for her mother's taste.  However, I live in Austin, Texas and nothing is inappropriate!  Taking age or anything else into consideration!  I am woman, hear me roar!  A pair of shorts and sleeveless shirt, and a hat of course!  Yes, Mary would have pulled it off much better, even being thirty years older!  She had style and poise.  I like to think I have style, and poise, but both slip, sometimes!  Mary probably would have told me to 'get over it', and 'do my own thing'.  She was unique and so am I!  

Black and white was worn later in the day.  I dressed for dinner in a rather striking 'catsuit' as they used to be called.  I had been swimming (despite it being cold in the water) and laughed at a couple of young (very) lads, (not quite Cinderella men,) who had decided it was too cold to enter the tub!  To be stronger than the youth of today in one way will suffice.

Rest in peace, Mary, and thank you for your inspiration, despite your not knowing who I was, or that I even existed.  Knowing her was enough for me.  She was a heroine. 

The complex is looking more spring-like than it has for a while, and all the colours are starting to show through. I will probably be the only person sitting at the pool this afternoon, as the temperatures are nearer seasonal normal, and wont get much above seventy.  Maybe I will encounter some excitement, but time will tell in ..... another story!