Things My Father Taught Me: Sarah Reilly
You were the first person to tell me I was good at this. You saw something in my peculiar ability to find that one beautiful needle in the haystack and then dissect in such a way, with a simple turn of phrase; it’s a wonder no one ever saw it as I did. You also taught me about design. About ethic. About setting my sights skybound. About soaking up every ounce of every experience presented me. You have been raised to seek the beauty in all things, and you very graciously passed that onto me.
Sarah Reilly, I owe you big time.
Your father means so much to you. I’m glad you’re able to share something about him here.
The earthy, sweet, dry smell of sawdust will always remind me of my father. How I adored burying my face in the front of his worn plaid shirt, knowing, as only a little girl can, the feeling of security in her father’s arms. His jokes were always the funniest, his words always the wisest, his hands always the most deft. He could fix anything. He could rock red-rimmed owl spectacles while driving his forest green 1968 Volvo P1800S Coupe. He could make anyone laugh. He made magic out of wood.
Who else could have intuited that all I really wanted as a teenager were European fashion magazines and gold-handled sable makeup brushes? (Such contraband items in a true blue hippy household would miraculously appear in my hands on sweet occasion with a wink and a knowing smile, inspiring worlds of glamorous fantasy and later, creation). Who else could have known that after a particularly excruciating heartbreak, only the steady vibration and lazy hum of a ride on the back of his motorcycle could bring respite? Only a man with an understanding of fine mechanics.
My Father’s appreciation for solid integrity, juxtaposed with a healthy dose of bad boy swagger and a dash of elegant charm, has forever colored my appreciation for a subtle aesthetic, born of the balance between substance and style. When something’s right, whether it be a love, a shoe, a meal, a chair, that sweet spot of balance never fails to ring true. Thank you Dad, for teaching me what’s right. You will always be the most stylish gentleman I know.