Skin

She has soft, supple, perfectly tanned skin that entices my fingers to run along her flesh. Only if you look closely do you see the tiny lines created by age and exposure to sun. Delicate, perfectly placed lines that only add to her uniqueness and character, and make her all the more attractive.

Her character is what drew me to her in the first place. Unassuming, yet bold. Beautiful by any era’s standards, she seems to transcend time, creating a standard all her own. She knows when to open up, sharing her inner beauty with all, and when to withdraw, leaving us to wonder what treasures she carries in her heart.

She is my forever companion, and has been ever since the year I left the warmth of home to go out in search of an education, and later, a career. She stayed by my side, keeping me confident, telling me I was just as beautiful (and versatile!) as she. She has carried my secrets and my identity, and I will love her forever.

And now you can meet her too.

my mom's timeless clutch

She belonged to my mother and dates back to the 70s, back to days before I was born. I can just imagine the numerous chic outfits my mother wore where she was just the perfect accessory. I remember as a young girl, wanting so badly to carry her around as if I owned her. To this day, her skin has one of the most interesting textures I have ever felt with my fingertips. Every line tells a story, every snap of her buttons makes her mine again. My mother gave her to me on the day I left home to go to college, and I vowed to maintain her beauty just as well as my mother did over the years. She has traveled across Europe, the Middle East, and North America. Wherever I go, so will she. Every time I open her, the same rich smell she had so many years ago fills my nostrils and takes me back in time.

Thank you, mama, for giving me a part of you that I can keep forever. Your purse is beautiful, but will never be as beautiful as you have and always will be.

I will never forget the words you uttered when, as a confused child still learning about race and trying to understand where I fit in, I asked you about the color of our skin.
Are we White? Are we Black? All my friends at school seemed to know the answer to that question with such clarity and ease, yet I felt I was neither. Without missing a beat, you looked at me with your beautiful, big brown eyes and said with love and conviction, “You are your OWN, special, Arabic color habibti (my love), and your color is beautiful.”

All colors are beautiful. Love yours, and it will love you back.

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2 Responses to Skin

  1. Dina says:

    Salam,
    JUST GREAT !!! Loved the purse….greetings to your mum, dad and the whole family…

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