Oh Mother, Oh Daughter

I wrote this in 1998 when I was 46, my daughter was 18 and my mum was 70. Dedicated to my mum from her favourite (i.e. only) daughter, and to my favourite (ditto) daughter from her mum.

That dress

Pink stretch towelling

Plunging neck and a keyhole to reveal

A heaving teenage cleavage

The length was

Just this side of decency

Red patent shoes, platforms

High heels, crossed straps

I can see them now

Click clack click clack

They killed but I felt fab

Just fab

Mum watched me from the window

Brow furrowed

As I tottered, wiggled

Waggled, giggled

To the bus stop

She was never one of those

You're-not-going-out-in-that mothers

But I knew

I just knew

That she wasn't 

Entirely 

Happy

I didn't care, I looked great, I felt great

'Those white lips, black eyes

Like a clown'

She whispered it to dad in the kitchen

I'd heard, but I didn't care

I knew I looked great

The hooting, the wolf whistles

As I giggled and wiggled

Confirmed it

I was immortal, invincible

I got away with murder

I'd never be old like my mum

Thirty years

Gone by like three

Stretch lycra (we only had nylon)

Plunging neckline, bare midriff

Platform high heeled boots

To the knee

Skirt just - only just - 

This side of decency

Black eyes

Lips silver this time round

She totters and wiggles

Waggles and giggles

I watch from the window

Biting my lip

'what does she look like?'

Sighs her dad

'She'll freeze'

'She looks great,' I say

'They all go out like that'

I like her best with pink lipstick

And I wish she'd take a cardigan

She doesn't care

She knows she looks fantastic

She'll never be middle-aged like her mum.

Reviews

[Allie]

I love love love this!!! I think any woman with a mother and a daughter can relate to this. When my daughter was born we had five generations alive. My daughter, me, my mother, my grandmother, and my great-grandmother. We are all close too so I will be sharing your beautiful poem with them.

[Jill Reidy]

Thanks so much Allie. Really appreciate your comments :-) Wow, quite a lot of generations there! We have 4 but can't beat your 5! xx

[h d e rushin]

just fabulous.
First the observation, then the unmistakable motherly carping. Almost unscripted,
but verbatim as my mother whispered to my father. Skirts were longer then and
you didn't have to worry about riding on the bus. And then the whole scene plays out
again, but this time, with you as the protagonist. unknowable is that which lays beyond
the limits of human understanding and experience.


wonderful write...dana

[Jill Reidy]

Thanks so much Dana - it's so encouraging to get reviews like yours and the others I've received. It really spurs me on and makes me want to write more :-)

[C J Heyworth]

Terrific poem, Jill, recording how the generations almost repeat themselves - the diminutive skirts, the click-clack of the impossible footwear, and the feeling of immortality are rendered with the necessary humour.
Love it, and I'm sure your Mum and Laurey will too.
(I deliberately avoid a Rating Score as I'm not a Marking Teacher any more [and very unusually for me, that rhymes !] )

[Jill Reidy]

Thanks Christophe, I do appreciate your comments very much. As I say, this is an old poem and I can see things now that I would write differently. However, I really didn't want to alter it, as it was in with a pile of writings that the family presented to my mum on her 80th birthday six years ago. I'm loving getting back to this writing business. And I agree with you about the rating score - I just noticed that on a poem I was reviewing, and really felt I didn't want to score it. A comment is enough IMHO. :-) xx