Idaho State Journal, November 30, 2003

My aunt, my own fashion icon

by Sarah Keech, Features Editor

   No matter how much a girl loves her mother, there is always a period, usually that dreaded decade of adolescence, when there is someone else - someone seemingly more hip, cool and stylish - they wish they could trade their own moms in for. For me, that would be my Aunt Phyllis.
   So when my mom broke the news to me last weekend that my beloved aunt's latest bout with cancer is terminal, it made me realize just how much my aunt has meant to me through my life - and how much she has influenced the person I have become.
   One of my first full-fledged memories of life was meeting my aunt for the first time. I was about four years old when my uncle brought his slim, blonde fiancée over for a visit. There was something about standing in the foyer, staring at the statuesque blue-eyed woman, that will always be imprinted in my memory - after all, she was wearing a sophisticated suit, something my own mom, having two messy youngsters at home, would never wear.
   At a young age, I knew there was something I had in common with my Aunt Phyllis: a fashion addiction.
   Her closets overflow with amazing garments of all colors and she always has the perfect things to wear for any occasion. From garden parties to black tie affairs, there's an outfit (probably several) in my aunt's closet all ready to go.
   Every fashion statement I made, from age 5 to 16, was influenced by what Phyllis would wear. I demanded to shop at the upscale children's stores and put together my first fashion show (a project for school) before graduating from elementary school.
   From tan Sperry Topsiders to Coca-Cola rugby shirts to opulent beaded belts to go with tiny khaki pants to long flowing, flowery dresses, I had to be in fashion - even if dad disapproved of the tight jeans and I had to battle with mom over spending $50 for a hip T-shirt.
   But my forward-thinking fashion sense paid off when I was 17. I got my own fashion column (for Washington Square Mall in Portland), and I loved writing about my favorite topic.
   I admire my aunt not just for her fashion sense, but also for her courageous internal strength.
   Though she grew up in a wealthy family in Grants Pass, Ore., where her father was a banker in town and the family owned a local department store - Griffith's of Grants Pass - it wasn't long after she was married that things started to fall apart. Griffith's - where she could always get the most amazing hat or handbag - was forced to close after Wal-Mart and other chain stores moved into town and shoppers started flocking to bargains over quality.
   It was her positive attitude that got her through the first bout with breast cancer, the sudden death of her only child, my darling cousin Jessica, from meningitis at age three and the depression we all felt as a family in those rough years.
   In recent years, we all thought her pain and suffering were finally starting to let up. Aunt Phyllis and Uncle Clarence adopted a little girl, named Be (pronounced 'bay'), from Vietnam, and Be fits perfectly into our family. The tiny girl's unabashed charm, ease of saying just the most off-the-wall comment at anytime and her own wild sense of fashion is most likely the result of growing up in my aunt's house.
   The last time I saw my aunt was at her house in Lake Oswego. Decorated like a featured home in Architectural Digest, no matter how sick she felt on the inside, things have always been bright and sunny in her house.
   Knowing now that Aunt Phyllis won't be around forever breaks my heart, but it makes me realize how special, creative and beautiful she is and how important she has been in shaping my own personality and life. It also makes me want to go shopping, and I know, if she could, she'd love to come with me.