Happy Birthday Elizabeth!

To celebrate this joyous occasion, we thought we'd post an excerpt from the memoir book: Elizabeth Grant My Life -- My Story.

  In the beginning, life was good. My father, who I called Papa, owned a very modern and successful blouse factory capable of mass production. We enjoyed great affluence. Papa drove a fashionable, jazz-hott Dailmler, and I recall my mother dressed in an elaborate full-length beaded gown that cost a hundred pounds at a time when a loaf of bread was a penny. As in most good homes, there were servants and a nanny.

Elizabeth and her Mother.

   Mummy had a great zest for life. My mother was strikingly beautiful. She was tall, about five-feet-nine; she had alabaster skin and a head of thick, black curls bobbed short. One of my earliest memories of my mother is how I remember watching her at her dressing table. Every night she'd brush her hair one hundred times, and we'd count together. Then, she would apply her creams, always in the same order--and she taught me how to use makeup and perfume. She was very modern and had a natural sense of style. These are rosy memories for me. 

Elizabeth's Mother and Father.

    I also have wonderful, vivid memories of moments with my father. He adored me, and he doted on me when it was utterly unfashionable for fathers to behave in this manner. He'd stroke my hair and talk to me as an adult. Even though I was a mere child, he took me to the factory to show me the amazing world of spinning threads and bobbins. My father encouraged me to touch different fabrics, explaining how they were made. I was amazed at the difference between cotton and silk.