Can one wear a poncho to a mouth party? I never thought I'd put that string of words together in a sentence, but I just did. So there. All silliness aside, Mouth Party is a real thing, a series of dinner parties created by a couple of friends who will be moving out of state not too far from now. Now, going back to the poncho. Yes, I sure did wear one to the debut party two weekends ago, hailing all the way from Colombia via the time warp tunnel leading to the 1970s. It was colorful. And very South American. (Not Mexican, as the post title might suggest.)
Back when I was visiting home for the holidays, my mom insisted I have this poncho that my dad had bought her thirty years ago when he lived in Colombia for a brief while. I couldn't refuse, because despite its crazy-bright colors, it boasts an artfully-woven pattern, incredibly soft yarn, and a fun fringe detail. It's a high-quality art piece in and of itself. Thirty years later and it's still in impeccable condition! (Sadly, she gave away all her silk blouses handmade in Hong Kong years before I was ever interested in shopping my mother's closet. This last trip also produced a lady-like black jacket of a soft wool and an oversized taffeta flower at the collar that SJP would be proud of. I will certainly be photographing it – that is, once I figure out how to remove the 1980s shoulder pads!)
Look, Mom, no hands! I really did wear the poncho!
Well, I hear the Native American look is back in, and so are big capes. If you can't rock a poncho amongst friends, then where else can you?
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