With Mother’s Day fast approaching, I have decided to pay tribute to the women in my life that have shaped me; starting with my gran, Anne.
I have always taken for granted that my gran isn’t quite like any other grandmother.
You will hear her before you see her; strutting down the street, her heels clicking away. Then once you see her, you won’t be able to take your eyes off of her. She’ll surely be buried away beneath her extravagant pink fur coat and floating in a dress that falls to her ankles. And that is just for her weekly shop to Morrison’s.
Undoubtably, she is the reason for my audacious taste in fashion and she is definitely the financier behind all of my looks. From designer handbags and high-end clothes to bold boots and daring dresses, my gran has given me everything I need to express myself through fashion.
More than this, she is my inspiration behind every look. Wee Annie would not be caught dead without her lippy on and an outfit that she knows will have the people talking. Yet for being a woman in her 60s (don’t tell her I told you), she has aged like fine wine. She knows exactly how to dress. Without dressing too young for her age, she has been able to perfectly capture the essence of being a glamorous older lady. With a style that is so contemporary, it is sure to stand the test of time. She just oozes charm.
I am always so proud to admit that my gran bought me the crazy zebra-print thigh-high boots I have on, or the new Palm Angels bag I am carrying. Because what other gran seriously picks that stuff out for their eighteen year-old granddaughter?
I often wonder what my gran was like when she was my age; was she just as troublesome, alluring and young at heart? Then it hits me. My gran might have the same sense of humour as a twelve-year-old boy and the drinking habits of an eighteen-year-old girl, but she had to grow up quicker than others would. At my age, my gran was pregnant with my mum.
Being a teenage mum in the 1970s must have come with its hardships, but never once have I heard my gran complain (and if my mother was anything like me growing up, my gran has every right to). She would never admit to it, but I know she has dealt with a fair share of heartache in her life. From losing her mum and her younger brother, my gran has faced a lot. She doesn’t say much but I know she has; you can tell by the strength in her smile. Whilst being so graceful and supple, she is one tough cookie.
Maybe the sad things she has faced in her life is the reason that she is so kind. If she senses a goodness in your heart, she would work her hardest to give you the world. Family, friends, strangers in the streets, she is the sweetest soul you could ever come across.
For the partying years she may have lost to raising a family, she certainly makes up for it now. If it is 5 o’clock on a Saturday evening and Wee Annie doesn’t have a cocktail or glass of wine in her hand, I suggest you go get her one. She has absolutely raised me to have as much fun as she does.
It sometimes humours me to think that I had my first legal drink (and probably illegal, considering how excited my gran was to have me as a new drinking partner) with my Gran. And I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I recall a conversation I had at work with a boy I had just started to get to know. He was asking me about my plans for my weekend, so I told him I was off to the Merchant City to hunt for the best cocktails around, starting my pursuit off at Bar Soba. I was looking forward to throwing a pair of heels on and doing my hair but most importantly, to get drunk. “That sounds fun,” he said, “who with?” Well, my gran of course.
His face was a picture. When most people hear ‘gran’ they think of an old lady, cooped up at home doing some knitting and watching Dickinson’s Real Deal. Although my gran may be a sucker for a bit of shitty daytime television, she is not one of those grans.
It was then I realised that no one would ever really understand the relationship I have with my gran. But maybe that is what makes us so special. She has took me across the world, from every corner of the UK to across Europe to the USA. Multiple times. We have shared some of the best and most heart-breaking experiences together. All that I am I owe to her. She is my absolute best friend in the world. She is my shoulder to cry on, my stylist, my partner in crime. Maybe I don’t say it enough, but my gran is my hero. I admire her so much and it may be cliché, but if I grow to be half of the woman than she is then, it will be enough. And my God, will I have some fun.
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