Food: Designers Dish

BY LENOR ROMANO

My mother gave up shopping for me by the time I was five. She gave up shopping with me at seven. Was it because I was so skinny that I had to buy boys’ slim pants? Or that I embarrassed her, demanding the stars-and-stripes bell bottom jumpsuit that she considered blasphemous?

Shopping for me became my father’s job. Yes! Very cool! The man had no patience, so I always got what I wanted just to get us out of the store. By age 11 I could no longer find what I dreamt of in the young junior department, so I took to designing my own clothes. Snakeskin mini skirts, faux pony midis, leopard fur vests... Fortunately I had an aunt who was a professional seamstress and could fulfill my desires.

My dad maintained his role as my personal shopper for expensive things like boots and bags. (We’re talking Granny boots that tied up to the knee, green suede boots with fourinch platforms, a red vinyl raincoat, a leather hoodie...) He had great taste, priding himself on always looking “smart.” In time. The tie was next. His drawer opened with a smell of the ’70s, he also had a friend at Botany 500 wood and what I imagined was his Noxzema shaving cream. and was a perfect 40 regular—right off I knew his ties well: the Countess Mara ones he was so the rack. There were a few years when “MY DAD proud of, the rich madder silks. Then I saw his favorite, a he gained weight in an attempt to WAS MORE deep barn red, but it had stains on it, rendering it unusquit smoking, but that was short- CONCERNED able. (He was meticulous about his appearance; I wonlived: he was more concerned about ABOUT HIS dered why he had kept it.) I dug deeper into his tie his wardrobe than his health. WARDROBE drawer, finding wide ties, skinny ties, knit ties... a life-

During college I had a summer job THAN HIS time of sartorial memories. I selected a paisley, rich in as a “swatch boy” at Cross Country HEALTH.” amber, ocher and plum. Clothes. The man I worked for was more During his final years, I’d made it a point to tell him how interested in skirts than suits. I fended him off much I loved him. I gave him a card with of all his favorite politely until September, then told him off. I was just 18. I still expressions typed across it in different colors and fonts. He managed to get my dad a few samples. studied it for awhile, and then exclaimed “This is all true!” I

Sadly, I recently had the distinction of helping my mother gently reminded him that these were his words, the words he select my father’s final outfit. The suit was easy: there were taught me to live by. lots to choose from, though he hadn’t worn one in a long They’ve served me well.