What Makes a Mother?
Carolina and her mother on a skiing holiday in Tierra del Fuego, Argentina
Thinking about the relationship between fashion and motherhood proved to be a challenge for me. Despite my desire to be a mother in the future — or, well, at least that is what I think I want — I was hesitant to write about this topic because I currently lack the motherhood experience myself. The dynamic between fashion and motherhood for me is therefore about speculating as to what impact the way I approach fashion is going to have on my motherly side. Fashion touches who we are, so it will no doubt have a powerful effect on shaping the upbringing of my children, my relationship with them, and, ultimately, their relationship with themselves.
Since the concept of motherhood is, for me, strictly theoretical, I can only reflect on the first and closest experience of motherhood I have, which comes from being a daughter. The strongest female figure in my life, my mother, has fiercely supported our family. She has tirelessly vouched for our resilience and taught us to always take a chance on ourselves and never give up on matters dear to us.
The older I get, the clearer it is: my mom made it look effortless, but motherhood is hard. To me, “mother” means never-ending support, day and night availability, necessary boundaries, limitless excitement and exhaustion, open ears, and zero judgement. I was always close to my mom but now, at 29, having grown enough to understand how ruthless the world can be, I see how hard it actually is to be what she was to me. After all these years, we are closer than ever though I live in New York and she is in Buenos Aires. How did this woman not let the weight of the world, the absurdities life sometimes presents us with, and the pressure society puts on women affect her character?
This picture was taken in one of my favorite places in the world. Ushuaia is the capital of Tierra del Fuego, an Argentine province located in the South of Patagonia. It’s often called el fin del mundo (“the end of the world”) because it’s the most southern point on the globe. If you look at a map, Tierra del Fuego is the triangle-shaped piece of land at the bottom of South America. It has a small airport, delicious spider crab, and a great ski center called Cerro Castor where my family and I used to go every winter to ski. We would drive from our hotel on the shore of the Beagle Channel — I will never forget the big windows in our rooms, which would beautifully frame the Andes Mountains in the morning — to the ski resort, spend the whole day there, make a plan to meet at the resort’s cafe for hot lentil stew mid-day, and then continue skiing before heading back. We spent several winter breaks in Ushuaia. Family vacations were always important for us as a way to spend quality time together without the everyday distractions and the stress of living in Buenos Aires, a big, loud city.
“[My mother] was always the most important guest at every improvised runway show I would put on in the kitchen before heading to a party. ”
My relationship to fashion wasn’t always smooth. Though I am now a fashion designer with an understanding of the industry and its mechanisms, realizing that it’s my body and that I can dress it how I want to because it belongs to me has been a process. Women have been exposed to plenty of unwritten — and sometimes written — rules when it comes to their fashion choices, mostly based on their “body type.” I’ve always had fun with fashion, but I wasn’t immune to these rules.
When I was a toddler, my mother would sew dresses for me. When I was a teenager, it was my mother who I would ask to turn my jeans into denim skirts. As I grew up, she was always the most important guest at every improvised runway show I would put on in the kitchen before heading to a party. During my years as a design student, she would help me sew. To this day, going shopping together is one of my favorite activities. We get to spend quality time together while trying on the most ridiculous outfits, almost like a two-person costume contest.
I remember that sherpa jacket in the picture. My mom would also wear it in Buenos Aires during the winter and she would carry her three-fold wallet in one of the pockets. Across my mom’s chest, you can see the strap of her Nikon case. Her hair is wrapped in a grey scarf and knotted at the top. My mom says hair accessories, like headbands and scarves, look great on me when I wear them, they “make me look mischievous.”
My clothing choices are a bit louder than my mom’s in the picture. The yellow rain boots were a staple in my closet. I used to dance alone in my room wearing those and a tartan pleated skirt. Fashion wasn’t even a word I used then. I was just having fun.
“She can be a comforting mother and the toughest warrior without losing herself in the process. That is her essence, and perhaps even the essence of motherhood.”
When it comes to my mother’s personal outfit choices, there is a reigning idea of simplicity and polished functionality in her outfits. Risks are rare but when they happen, they are specific and bold, through silk scarves, bright-colored purses, fun-shaped necklaces, and stacked bracelets. The recipe seems to be willpower, utilitarian practicality, and confident adornments. These aspects melt into each other and constitute some of her many powers; my mother is ready to take on any challenge, embark on any adventure, and overcome every obstacle. She can be a comforting mother and the toughest warrior without losing herself in the process. That is her essence, and perhaps even the essence of motherhood. Her daily armor is embellished with ornaments that speak of her strength. A strength proven not only physically at child birth, but professionally by being an outstanding mathematics professor, spiritually by being a woman in deep connection with her beliefs, and emotionally by being the core force of our family unit.
I hope I can be as good a mother as my mom is to my brother and me and I hope I can have her grace in navigating multiple life scenarios simultaneously without losing myself. I believe the best way of dressing is to pay attention to how we feel when we get dressed and to know that as long as we make choices that have a positive impact on us, we are dressing right, no matter how that looks. My mom has always been loyal to herself, picking shapes, colors, and textures she feels comfortable in. To my almost 30-year-old, no-kids self, my mother’s effortless ever-readiness to tackle any hindrance—always portrayed in her garments—seems to be one of the keys to approaching motherhood. My wardrobe might look different, but I hope its essence will always echo my mom’s.
