Text & Textile — 11

I am raised by my grandmother and her older sister, I’m their little angel. I grow up in an apartment, I often eat creamy tomato soup and I play cards with them. One day, I discover lemon: I cut myself quarters that I suck in front of the TV. We rarely go out, except to go "have our hair done" at the hair salon of a distant cousin. I always ask for a french braid, which I keep for days on end for the sole purpose of getting perfect waffle waves once undone. I have a collection of ribbons: satin, textured, in all widths and colors. They all have in common to be long enough to make beautiful, well-symmetrical curls.

Thirty years later, I listen to the news on the radio while drinking my lime-lemon herbal tea. And, in this January of lockdown, I look at the Spring dresses collection thinking of the ribbons that I collected, as a child. The excitement I once felt is intact.