When it comes to clothes, you cannot lie to your children!
Posted in Guestbloggers by Lotte
A column by Maise Njor – Danish bestselling author.
Experience maise Njor live at CPH kids – Friday and Saturday. see the program >>here.
My mother has lied to me. I remembered it the other day when I was talking to my childhood friend Margit. All of a sudden we were talking about when we both took riding lessons, we both had riding boots that were too small, and I guess our mothers had been talking to each other … In any case, both our mothers succeeded in making their daughters believe that the absolute hippest in horse girl fashion was wearing a pair of strange leather slippers on your riding boots. It was in winter, it was cold, and we didn’t have room for ski socks in the boots. So our mothers sewed toe warmers that you could wear outside your riding boots. In sheepskin. Fastened around the heel with underpants elastic.
It was only the other day when I was talking to Margit that we realized that it was in fact strange that we were so much ahead of all other trendsetters at the riding school that they couldn’t keep up with us. Or wanted to … For we must have looked like idiots when we trudged around at the school with a quarter of a sheep on each foot …
But I have also lied to my mother in the name of fashion. It was in the 80s, it was summer, and fashion dictated – right after Wham had seen the light of day, I am sure – that you had to wear very tight white Levi’s. So tight that Levi’s couldn’t keep up … So you had to go to Deres, pay a fortune for your white Levi’s, and then go home and take the legs in. Now, on this particular day it happened that Margit had a very important and exciting story to tell, so I was a bit inattentive when I cut the legs, with the result that when I put on the pants, I looked like someone who had both legs in plaster.
Necessity is, as you know, the mother of invention, and, for the poor schoolgirl, of lying, so now that I had just spent my savings on the pants and couldn’t afford another pair, I decided that I had to get them exchanged.
I didn’t dare to do it myself, so I asked my mother. Without telling her that I had taken in the legs to a size that would fit an earthworm … My excuse was that I needed them one size larger, and not until several years later did I get around to telling her what I had been up to. With the result that she never got anything exchanged for me since … But I guess the score is leveled …
