When I think of berets, the first thing that comes to mind is my mom. While there are soooooo many other connotations – beatniks, Rerun from “What’s Happenin'”, the men helped fight crime on the subways in the 80s…
I think of my mom first because a black beret and a red lip was totally her thing in the mid-90’s. Growing up in the least alternative, white, Republican suburb of Park Ridge, IL, most people’s parents were the typical cookie cutter human with no style.
At the time, I didn’t appreciate my mom’s uniqueness. My friends ribbed on me for it. Looking back she wasn’t that weird. She just didn’t give a shit. I love that about her. She still gives zero fucks to this day.
Thanks for the inspiration, Mom.
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Rebekah Schott Photography