Friday, May 21, 2010


I remember seeing my first Barbie doll in Hong Kong.  I was at a party and a little girl was playing with her Barbie.  I somehow convinced her to let me hold the doll, but after a few minutes she took her away.  I was in love and never wanted anything more in my young life.

My obsession led to me asking my mother weekly if I could have a Barbie.  I'm surprised that took my mother a couple of years to get me one.  It came with some drama, though.  

By then we were living in Istanbul. On my sisters birthday she opened her first present outside near the blooming Hydrangeas. After unwrapping the pink tissue paper she held up a vision of beauty, a stunning blonde Malibu Barbie which my mother and helpers had made into a dazzling bride with a full lace gown, a tulle veil like a fountain sprouting from her head and a bouquet with flowers made of lace wrapped around her small wrist.   There were even pieces of lace wrapped around her tiny feet and up her legs.

I was so envious! There are some photos of me giving my sister the stink eye.  I was wearing some fabulous azure blue with gold embroidery Afghani tunic dress, but never mind that, I needed a white lace wearing Barbie! 

My mother was no dummy, she gave all four of her daughters a Malibu "bride" Barbie that day.I believe my love of lace began there. 

I prefer to juxtapose it against something heavy and worn like Doc Martins with a lace dress, a lace trimmed camisole with rolled jeans, or lace pocket pants with a leather jacket.  Something tough and something tender.

Fall lace fashion.

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