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Mom Knows Best


Don’t get me wrong—moms know a lot. They’re freakishly good at multi-tasking, and they have an extraordinary ability to ask "What’s wrong?" before you even realize you’re upset. But let me ask you this: would you let your mom choose your prom dress for you? Your wedding dress? Your lipstick color? If the answer is yes, then cheers to you for having come into this world through the birth canal of Carine Roitfeld. On the topic of style, mom does not always know best. Then again, neither do you. Which is when, of course, moms can fairly say, “I told you so.”

I remember the first time I thought, “Maybe mom doesn’t know best.” I was five, at an uncle’s wedding in Ohio, and I was sobbing hysterically behind a couch because my mom had dressed my three-year-old brother and me in matching plaid rompers (it could have been a dress but, for all intents and purposes, it was a romper) that had our names down the front next to huge felt duck decals. We may share the same chromosomes, my mom and I, but we have never shared the same sartorial outlook. The above scenario withstanding, we got along OK in the personal-style department...until I began to understand the concept of “cool”—that was on the ride home from seeing Clueless in 1995. I was ten and, though I didn’t know what it meant to crave an “herbal refreshment,” I could infer that the Laura Ashley twinset I wore to the theater would probably not land me at a lunch table with Cher Horowitz. And so it came to pass that on my first day of sixth grade at a conservative Connecticut middle school, I donned a plaid miniskirt, over-the-knee socks, high-heeled loafers, and god knows what shirt. Throughout my tweens and teens, my mom and I would fight, for sure, but in the end, she always let me go for it. Brassy blond highlights? I’ll drive you, but I’m not paying for it, and it’s going to look weird. Blue contact lenses? Fine, but I’m telling you, your real brown eyes are nicer... Maybe there was some of that psychic-mom thing going on, where she knew that my fashion and makeup obsession and all of the experimentation was going somewhere.

But as Mother’s Day, the most glorious of manufactured holidays, nears (May 12!!), we’d like to take a moment to acknowledge those major “I told you so” moments. Times when, if we could go back, we would have listened to mom.

DO NOT PLUCK YOUR EYEBROWS. Just don’t. Your brain is not capable of making smart decisions about several things as a teenager, eyebrow shape being one of them. You will over-pluck, especially in the middle, and it will take years (if that) for those barren patches to sprout again. If you’re naturally erring on the side of unibrow—and most of us have a little somethin’-somethin’ in that department—here’s a thought: let your mom help you. She has more experience with a pair of tweezers than you do.

DO NOT PIERCE YOUR BELLY BUTTON. This is probably not still applicable, given that it’s not the early aughts and “Hit Me Baby One More Time” isn’t every other song on the radio, but I always wished I had known that belly-button piercings leave their mark long after the cubic-zirconia-topped barbell comes out. And I can only imagine how that hole-on-a-hole is going to look when (one day) it’s stretched taught over a developing baby. This “wait!” philosophy can also be applied to tattoos; that’s one place where my mom stood her ground.

And now, a male perspective (courtesy of Mr. Nick Axelrod):

I wasn’t a particularly eccentric kid—I didn’t go through a Juggalo phase; only one pair of Jncos—but I always had a particular and, in retrospect, pretty homosexual sense of style. A flair for vibrant color (the neon spectrum, tie-dye), an appreciation for vests, a bizarre (but I think totally acceptable at the time?) investment in biker-shorts-as-pants. But the area in which I came closest to reaching the limits of my parents’ lovingly blasé attitude was my hair. Every so often, usually at home over the holidays, I’ll uncover a photo of myself with, maybe, henna-dyed brick-red spikes (age 10) and my mom will glance at it and say, “That was really horrible.”

Why’d you let me do it? I didn’t drive myself to the natural-food store to buy the henna, and I certainly didn’t use my non-existent income to fund this ongoing dyeing habit. Her answer is always, “Well, you wanted to do it.” This is what’s so cool about Gwenn, my mom. But also, GWENN, WTF!? How could you let your son look like a damn fool??  

When Emily and I decided to pay tribute to our very understanding mothers for this post, I emailed mine to ask her how she coped with my style quirks, and also to get her side of the story regarding my most egregious hairstyle [photo 4]. The story involves a bowl cut, a beauty parlor called "Tress," a chain-smoking stylist, five hours of bleaching (applied to only the ‘bowl’; the sides remained my natural dark-brown), and an amount of parental love and support I’m not sure I’ll ever be capable of generating in this tiny, bike-shorts-loving heart of mine.

“You were very insistent about bleaching your hair—the word ‘relentless’ comes to mind,” my mom said. “Dad and I just figured, whatever, hair grows back. So, we took you to the local beauty salon and Meryl did it. It took literally hours to bleach your hair; the cut was faster. What a look… It seemed to mean something to you, though, and it wasn’t harmful, so we didn’t care. Also, you’d have to figure out how to deal with the assholes who looked at you and made comments... I have no idea where you got the idea from—Andy Warhol?

“You always had very specific taste in clothing,” she continued, “and seemed to always have an image in your mind about how you wanted to look. Unfortunately, your image did not match the image I had in my mind. Before you were born, I imagined a Jewish ‘John-John’ (John F. Kennedy, Jr.)—sort of WASPY PREPPY, little navy shorts, tennis sweaters, little ties, little navy blazers, maybe chinos…But, we let you choose your clothes as soon as you wanted to. You wore Oshkosh and t-shirts for years and years and liked turquoise and dark purple. But when you bleached your hair, people would say, ‘How could you let him do that?’ You got a lot of stares. I think it only lasted for that summer—I know for your Bar Mitzvah it was back to brown. I guess our philosophy was that you could choose whatever you want to wear and how you wanted to look. If you wanted to wear something and you felt good about how you looked, we were fine.”

I recently tested this philosophy when this story went up on ITG.  “I have no words,” my mom said. Fair enough.

Well, here’s a thought!

This Mother’s Day, don’t just send a card, email, or text with thirteen heart Emojis. Acknowledge how, and when, your mom knew best—at the very least, you’ll laugh about it. Or better yet: go shopping. Take HER shopping. Which is where Barneys New York comes in. We’re teaming up with the retailer to give away two $1,500 Barneys gift cards, which is certainly enough cash make both you and your madre happy. Who knows, she could, as it turns out, ultimately be the Cher to your Tai. Or, at least she’ll make sure you don’t look like a farmer in those clothes.

Click here (or below) to enter for a chance to win! And, please write in the comments with some of your fondest mom-definitely-knew-best stories. We’re all ears. **Note: Contest has ended. Thanks to all who entered! Winners will be notified soon.

—Emily Weiss and Nick Axelrod

Let’s Talk About It! JOIN IN
  • nicolecontrol

    Yes! When I clicked through and saw Nick's bleached bowl cut, I laughed so hard that I snarfed my morning coffee. Amazing! I love you guys.

  • Janine

    Someone's mom looks like Princess Caroline. Both moms are beautiful. I love this post. I'm older than both of you - and it's the same all around. Except I have an Italian mother. Why do all mothers have these same attributes? Looking back, it was a very good thing. Thank you.

  • TN

    great post. moms are the best

  • Jan Williams

    I told Katie W. the same thing...and she went right ahead and got her bb pierced, too! Oh well...! Love your Mom's photos...beautiful!
    Jan W.

  • Kibbles

    Flip flops. Oh the agony. I wore flip flops everyday in high school because I wanted to be a So-Cal surfer girl so bad. As mom rightly pointed out, we lived in Northern California, and the pictures of me in rain coats and flip flops or puffy coats and flip flops are just agony.

  • http://twitter.com/Mayaalamode Maya Shaw

    This isn't a "Mom knew best" story but, it is one that reminds me how blessed I am to have her as my mother and best friend. When I graduated high school in 2011 (yes, I'm a baby!) I was starting my first year at a university for fashion design. My mother and I were driving back from getting dorm room supplies when she opened her heart to me. She told me how much I inspired her and made her proud because even though I never got the best grades, I always stayed true to who I was and I always had a level of confidence in who I was that a lot of girls my age are still trying to find.

    Your mom is always supposed to tell you nice things, and this fell under that category but, there was something more than "nice" in her tone of voice, it was more so a tone of endearment and true happiness. Knowing that you have made your mom proud is the best feeling ever and her telling me this right before going to college helped me get on the right track immediately to make her feel this way for ever! Thanks ITG for this amazing piece on moms!

  • bcox

    I talk to my mom on the phone everyday. She knows without me saying when something isn't right and when to invite me over for my favorite home cooked meal. I think she does this mostly to see me in person and scan me over to really make sure I'm alright. There is nothing like mom's best dish when your strapped for cash until next pay day. She just instinctively knows how to make a little go a long way. You won't ask for money because you don't want her to worry and you want her to know you have everything under control even during the times you don't but that single meal makes it that much better and she knows your gonna be alright.

  • A. Courtney

    When I was about 3 my mother was trying to wrangle me into my Sunday Best, before hauling me into the family van for church. I - of course - had different ideas than she did about what I would wear. I successfully stalled for a half hour, and when we were running more late than my mom could stand, she threw me into whatever frilly sundress she touched first. I was pissed. For the first few minutes of the drive, I gave her my best dagger-glare and silent treatment, before finally (and fatefully) deciding to try out a new word. With all the venom I could muster I declared, "We wouldn't even be having this problem if it weren't for you b**ch!" Naturally, the car whipped off the highway onto the shoulder, and my door was nearly yanked off its hinges. "What did you say?" was all my mother got out before I started crying. I at least had the sense to ask, "When you're done yelling at me, could you please just tell me what that means?" Needless to say, she never had a problem again (for a decade at least).

  • Gina Montaleone

    My mom stood her ground on the tattoo policy as well. Although I have nothing against well thought out or meaningful tattoo, I am really glad I didn't get the stars on my foot I wanted so badly in high school.

  • Melissa

    After watching clueless I also decided to implement the skort + knee socks + denim vest look at our school. My mom was surprisingly supportive as long as the knee socks did not go above my knee. Now that I think of it, she always supported my fashion and make-up risks...starting to wish she had been more strict about those. Maybe I wouldn't have ended up with a natalie imbruglia inspired haircut in junior high!

  • Jane S

    I grew up in the era of Marcia Brady (Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!) pin-straight center-parted curtains of long blonde hair. I had thick dark brown wavy side-parted hair that frizzes at the slightest hint of humidity. This was way before keratin treatments, heck, hand-held hairdryers (as opposed to the inflatable bonnet models) were just coming out, so after much crying and pleading, my parents agreed to pay for a straightening treatment. It probably cost $100 --the 1972 cost-equivalent of a home visit by Garren -- and required two visits. When Mom came to pick me up after the second treatment, there I was, my newly straighted hair all cut off into a variation of pixie/shag. Exasperated doesn't even begin to describe her reaction!

  • Violetta

    Hi, just out of curiosity, I tried to sign up for sweepstakes and it said my email was banned!! I am not sure what I could have done but I'm curious to find out..

    • mickharper

      That's odd! We've banned no one! Scout's honor!

      Can you shoot the email address you tried over to mick@intothegloss.com and I'll look into what's up. Thanks Violetta!

  • http://twitter.com/Katarina_MV Katarina

    Mum told me NOT to use Jolene lightening creme to lighten the shorter front parts of my hair (pseudo-bangs, if you would), a la Rogue from X-Men. Determined to come close to this, I did anyways, and ended up taking my junior yearbook photo with brassy orange bangs, which I thought looked amazing. Never again.

    Similarly, I WISH I had given my Mum the chance to tell me "DO NOT PIERCE YOUR LIP". Unfortunately, I was a continent away at uni and decided to just not tell her. Now, a few years later, I have an interesting little mark at the bottom of my lip that either comes across as a beauty mark (cute!) or a blackhead (...not so hot)...

  • http://twitter.com/AmandaLasley Amanda Lasley

    Oh, the eyebrows. My mother tried to tell me, but no- I needed to randomly pluck at them myself. At 16 I was sporting some Greta Garbo brows, and now ten years later I have patchy brows and an arsenal of products to fix them.

  • Raissa

    Don't skimp on bras or skincare.

  • steph

    my mother lovingly facilitated my wish to sport a Crazy Sexy Cool-era T-Boz haircut... oof.

  • H

    oh man, my mom still reflexively says, "you could never be buried in a jewish cemetery!!!" whenever I even say the word tattoo. and we're a whole family of cremation-ists. but in all these years, I've never gotten one. so I guess it worked!

  • Alice Poehlmann

    My mother was an inspiration politically and socially. She let me wear what I wanted and always told me I anticipated the trends

  • Margaret

    I got a perm in high-school....nuff said.

    (that said though, my mum was very much like Nick's in that she didn't try to talk me out of it because it was something I wanted)

  • Aveling

    When I was in middle school, all the girls lined their eyes in a really thick layer of black. Being 12, I wanted to be just like everyone else. So I went to the drugstore and bought a 99 cent liner and proceeded to make my self look like a panda. My mom came home and told me that I look awful with heavy liner, since it weighs down my delicate features. She made me wash my face. Deep down inside, I knew my mom was right about the black liner.

  • http://twitter.com/treetrout1 Deborah Curran

    My mother told me that men would expose themselves or try to touch me in improper ways. She told me to always remember that it's not my fault and I did nothing wrong. I haven't had a job yet where a boss hasn't tried. Once when I in nyc and worked on wall street my boss hired a car to take him home and he dropped me at my apartment building. He tried to come up - I ran and got in elevator - he got on another one and banged on outside door. I put shower on (same wall as hallway) to make him think I was in it - he finally went away and I called my mom and cried and cried "what's wrong with me that this keeps happening" and she reminded me it's them not me. and she was right. It finally stopped when I hit 30 - 35 years old

  • http://twitter.com/katharinagees Kat

    Buying jackets in size small even though my arms are long and I need at least a medium. Mom always told me to get the larger size but because I was skinny and very number/size driven when i bought clothes, she let me get the small. Now a lot of my coats are too small for me and the ones that do fit (sorta) can't be layered with anything because then they're much too tight.
    Love you Mom!

  • Name

    - Eyebrows
    - Sunscreen (You will get cancer)
    - Don't wear wrinkled clothes and/or ripped clothes/clothes with holes in them
    - Poor fit (two short, too tight, too big)
    - You need to wear a coat with that (said in sub-zero upstate NY weather when I would wear a light hoodie waiting for the school bus)
    - Sandals (also worn in the snow waiting for the bus...)
    - Don't cut your own bangs on a whim
    - Don't wear sports bras with everything
    - Don't bite your nails/play with your hair/crack your knuckles

  • Pamela Soluri

    Love your content! good job!!
    check my blog if you want too:)
    click -> Tr3nDyGiRL Fashion Blog

  • http://twitter.com/aka_yourmom alexandra

    my mom told me to always have my nails manicured. she said if i can't keep my nails clean and neat men will wonder what else isn't clean and neat.

  • McKenzie

    highlights. was never allowed to get them and looking back at my friend's bleached tresses, I'm very thankful for that!

  • http://procrastinatingpretty.blogspot.com/ TheProcrastinator

    My mom has been, is and always will be a better stylist than me. To this day, I still reflexively ask her for outfit approval -- even on a job where I'm being paid to put clothes on people. I can obviously pull together an outfit and have it be decent (sometimes even brilliant), but if I really need something to especially extraordinary, I always double check with my mama!

  • Jordan Troublefield

    Was always climbing on things too high, getting into things I didn't need to be in, and riding my bike too fast. My mom always did her best to give me some sort of safety net. Here's a picture of our ridiculous helmets my mom gave my sister and I after we figured out riding down the hill with our feet in the air makes us go super fast..... With a wipeout at the end

  • Jordan Troublefield

    Was always climbing on things too high, getting into things I didn't need to be in, and riding my bike too fast. My mom always did her best to give me some sort of safety net. Here's a picture of our ridiculous helmets my mom gave my sister and I after we figured out riding down the hill with our feet in the air makes us go super fast..... With a wipeout at the end

  • http://www.facebook.com/alex.petroff Alex Petroff

    My mom would spray CK eternity on letters she would send me to camp. That smell= mom. In the best way.

  • rayshaviolet

    moms always end up knowing best! moms are always the best. even when its not your mom and its someone elses theres always this sense of comfort.

  • Isabel

    This is unrelated, but I wanted to ask and didn't know where else to post! Hopefully no one will mind.

    I was wondering if ITG could do a post on hair partings (or if you have already, if someone could point me to it?) It comes from a bit of an odd place; I realised that one of my nostrils was bigger than the other (the things we notice...). Nothing someone else would notice unless I pointed it out to them and made them look, or had them compare my side profiles, but its there. I googled, its normal! (Most of us have it, apparently). But my nose has always been a sore spot for me, so I thought it couldn't hurt to de-emphasise the larger one and let any focus be on the smaller one.

    So I thought the best way to do that would be to part my hair on the side with the smaller nostril, and have my hair fall partially covering the side with the larger one; seemingly simple, but it just doesn't fall right! How do I get it to part the other way? Once it stays down, how do I make it so it falls naturally? Is there a right or wrong side to part your hair on (to emphasise your 'best side')?

    It'd be great to finally get an answer (if there even is one!) x

    • Kattttt

      My technique is not necessarily sound or logical, but it seems to work. I needed to move my part because the hair was thinning where it was (I'm not in favour!) I have 45 tons of hair + 2 cow licks in the way, so I moved it gradually over a couple of weeks, and when wet. All at once didn't work, but a little at a time was alright.

  • http://mybeautysample.com/ Becca @ The Beauty Sample

    LOL I loved this post so much (that pic of the bleached bowl cut=priceless. I wish we could have seen the plaid duck-decaled rompers :P)! Moms always ALWAYS know best when it comes to brows and tattoos. I so wish I had listened to my mother on both counts. My eyebrows were stick skinny in high school and haven't ever recovered fully. They are bald, patchy, uneven...*sigh*

  • Jordan Troublefield

    Was always climbing on things too high, getting into things I didn't need to be in, and riding my bike too fast. My mom always did her best to give me some sort of safety net. Here's a picture of our ridiculous helmets my mom gave my sister and I after we figured out riding down the hill with our feet in the air makes us go super fast..... With a wipeout at the end

    (forgot to post the picture on my previous post!)

  • http://voguetteblog.com/ Amy {Voguette}

    If I only had left my mother help me with my eyebrows... Definitely mom knows best.


  • erin

    Best advice I ever received from my mom "It's none of your business what they think of you". So good.

  • tamar

    Moms , they are the best!

  • Athena Roth

    My mother always told me to trust myself and remember that you can't make people react/behave the way you want them to or they way you would react. And to try to live in loving place and be here now.

  • Tricia

    The most important thing my mom ever taught me is that bad things happening to you in your life aren't excuses to be a bad person. And you always get further with sugar than with vinegar. She's my best, and every now and then she'll pick out something really cute... but most of the time my response to her choices is "yea that's interesting... but I don't think so."

  • Christie

    My mom always knew best when she told me not to pick my face, that I was going to regret that belly button ring, that I shouldn't try to cut my own bangs until I was "older," that sunscreen is essential!, and that I should always be nice to my mother in law (preventing wrinkles...) :)

  • Behind the Mirror

    This is one of the best posts I have read in a long time!!! I really enjoyed it!!! Thank you!

  • Jennifer

    In high school I had the genius idea of getting my belly button pierced or a tattoo. My Mom would have none of either, so then I became a true genius and got a TATTOO so she wouldn't see it (but of course she found out) . Needless to say it was hideous! $35 to get it on and $3,500 and much pain to get it off. Mom does know best... so true right? Should have listened!

  • disqus_gj2VPkTvc5

    My Mom's expressed a lot of opinions on my beauty/ body choices throughout the years: tattoos ("so green and so chunky"), piercings ("ugh, but whyyyy?"), pink highlights ("I know what you are going for, and believe me, it's not that").

    The one time she refrained from offering up her thoughts was when, at 12, I decided to Nair my eyebrows. She just took one look at my tear streaked face, drove me to the nice mall to have what was left of my eyebrows waxed, and bought me my first fancy beauty product, a Dior eyebrow pencil. I told everyone at school I did it on purpose, and everyone thought my chola brows were the coolest thing ever.

  • Kerry

    This might be my favorite ITG post ever. More pictures please. xoxo

  • dana

    don't mess with your eyebrows! and never pluck your chin hairs in front of a man.

  • Adrienne Angelos

    I know this is just another hair-dying story, but I think it really shows why she's a winner.

    I think it all started with an innocent trip to Wal-Mart (I'm from the Midwest, when you're a teen, everything starts with an innocent trip to Wal-Mart). My sister, a few months past 16, and I were excited to be out alone and apparently it left us feeling grown up. Our newfound maturity directed us down the hair dye aisle, and we perused the selection until something caught our attention. I can't remember the brand, but the box was glossy and promised "multi-faceted color", and - red flag number one - how could anyone resist the exotic beauty promised by a shade named Toasted Coconut? I had to be that girl on the box, smiling and flipping her hair. My sister pulled out her cell phone and called Mom. She was at some church activity so we thought maybe she'd give in quickly just to get off the phone, but she withstood our begging and pleading. The answer was a definite no. This is where the story should end, but if my past is representative of anything, it's that I'm determined to learn all of my life lessons the hard way. I kept at my sister, telling her we could still dye my hair - MY hair was mine to color if I wanted, nevermind that I was 14 and still hadn't mastered color theory as it relates to makeup. Twenty minutes and twenty dollars later, we were out in the parking lot with the cheapest towel available around my shoulders, laboriously working the cream into my hair with the windows on my sister's '89 Maxima rolled all the way down. While the dye did its thing we sat and talked, my nervous excitement building. How much trouble would we be in? Or, gasp, would it just be me that was in trouble? Soon it was time to rinse. At this point, I'm not sure why we didn't just go home. The damage was already done. But teenaged decision-making prevailed and we drove to a small gas station, where I dashed into the bathroom and shoved my head into the sink. I rinsed it out as quickly as I could manage with my head trapped underneath that short faucet, wrapped my hair up turban-style, and dashed back out to the car to head home.

    Here's where the real fun starts. I hadn't even looked at myself yet, and I come sauntering in to my unaware dad, reading on the couch. He gave me a strange glance but didn't think much otherwise. I disappear into my bedroom and my sister quickly follows. We unwrap my hair to see my not-really-so-bad mouse brown hair turned to a predictably GLOWING orange and I immediately see my junior high social life flash before my eyes. I look utterly ridiculous. We panicked quietly until my mom came home. I called her sheepishly into her bedroom, where I sat on her bed with my hair hidden under another towel turban. Without saying a word, I pulled the towel off and collapsed into tears. My mom, saint of all saints, managed not to laugh at my face or even say "I told you so." She gave me a hug and proceeded to save the day/night/my life. One of her best friends (and my own best friends mother) was a beautician and she happened to live about two blocks away from us. My mom rang her up, explained my mistake, and convinced this woman to take me down to the parlor at 10 o clock at night to strip and then re-dye my hair to a more normal shade of brown. We were there past midnight, but school the next day was a breeze - only my female classmates noticed the slight change.

  • http://twitter.com/BlossomShed The Blossom Shed

    My mom tells me how gorgeous I look in everything, even when I know I don't:) It's a wonderful feeling to know that my siblings and I will always be completely perfect in someones's eyes - I realize now that she's not just saying it, that's really the way you see your kids!

  • mefink

    My Mom was so right when she told me not to quit school, if only could go back in time I would have listened.

  • D.A.

    My mother knew my high school boyfriend was gay when I didn't. Years later when we talked about him, I asked her why she didn't say anything. She said that she wanted me to practice having a boyfriend with someone who was respectful, fun to be with and finally, safe! She was right. He was a great first boyfriend. I cannot say enough wonderful things about my mom. She died a month before I gave birth to my own child and I was devastated but determined to follow in her footsteps. As far as beauty advice is concerned, I hope to God my daughter listens to me when I tell her never to pluck her eyebrows. She's only three, but those things are already fabulous!

  • mathmama

    My mom's advice was to only suntan between 10-11 and your 40's are the best years. Well thanks to powerful spf's I can be out longer and the 50's are now the 40's. Oh yeah, and "don't let that boy your dating slip away"....30 years later, we are still happily together. I seem to be the mom giving all the advice now and I am happy to say my beautiful daughter listens most of the time.

  • Panglu

    I have a very difficult relationship with my mother; no hugs, no mother daughter-time, no shopping. It was the power of farming with my mom that had me initiate real conversations with my mom. One summer day, my mom looked at me and said that I had really horrible skin. She cried saying that she wished she could solve my skin problems for me but didn't have the money to take me to the dermatologist. So she told me that whatever I was using, I must use less chemicals on my face because I'm at an age where my skin is still delicate and that my skin can only take so much. After all the crazy skincare actions I've done, I finally took mom's advice and realized that my mom is right. I may not be able to solve my acne now, but I can now control my breakouts. I love my mom, and wished that farming hadn't ruin her skin/age so much. Bless all moms, you are our heroes!

  • nDing

    When I tell my mom a huge exam is coming up or finals season is approaching, she would always make a huge pot of my favorite soup: chicken + coconut. I'm really picky with soups and that's the only kind I'll drink bowls and bowls of. My dad is the professional chef in the family but this kind of soup is one of the only ones that I like better when my mom makes it ❤ LOVE YOU MOM!!!

  • nDing

    My mom always told me the best men that are boyfriend/husband material are the ones who know how to tip generously in restaurants and are kind to parents. Now that I'm almost 21, I find the "tip" part to be true! It's never good to be with someone who's stingy. Don't underestimate the power of moms. LOVE YOU MOM!!! ❤

  • Jess

    Urgh. I've just read all the comments and now I miss my mum. I'll be home in three weeks!

  • Kattttt

    THAT is a favour worth being thankful for! The amount of (grown) women hobbling around the world in gorgeous shoes is truly painful.

  • Celeste

    My mom (being French) has always always insisted on telling me not to wear so much makeup and not to pluck my eyebrows. She was mostly right. To be fair tho, to this day she plucks and trims her brows to near obsolescence, doesn't use conditioner, and doesn't know how to apply mascara... It wasn't til Youtube came about that I finally learned how to care for eyebrows. Weird fact: my mother-in-law doesn't know how to apply mascara either. They apply it only to the tips, never the base. 0.o Thank goodness for internet tutorials and spa days.