Supermom- Design Education begins from home

I went for a formal training in design schools. When I share this with acquaintances they look at me with either undue suspicion or abysmal gaze, in either case they disconnect me from themselves and daily life. A few polite ways of doing so are adjectives such as different, unconventional, passionate, creative, mad and well I had to stick to polite ones so…

However this post is not to prove my stand, this post is to clarify that like anything else Design begins from home. It is a part and parcel of daily life as much as air and water, and training or no training, we all implement design. Some of us just chose to study it in-depth. Like a sociology student would indulge a little more in society and the scientist in science. It does not dissuade the rest of us from being connected to both does it?

My realization apart from many a discussions with peers, comes from, well, home. I was sitting on the chair with the air of self-importance while reading a “very important” pdf on “education” while my mother was going around finishing her “daily chores”. She called me to the kitchen and I was surprised to see what she was up to. After a long day at work and then home, she was now trying to fix a problem. Her utensil stand was being devoured by rust and bits and pieces were falling on the floor. She was standing with a brown tape (used in packing) and a pair of scissors, and had that gleam in her eyes. The gleam when you find that perfect idea after a rigorous brainstorming session. And I understood what she was up to. She was trying to cover the rusted sides with tape till she gets time to buy a new one. I offered to do it for her. She then demonstrated how to do it. Very meticulously she would start winding the tape over the side such that it does not twist and is not wasted. Even after the number of years spent in thriving on design books, I know I would be gauche at that. I was gloating all night, wow, my mother was a designer all this while, I should observe her and learn than spoiling my eyes in front of a screen day and night. Every single task that she performs, she unconsciously devises her solutions, its like breathing in and out.

This also takes me to the letters my mother writes. I always credit my father for investing in us the time to acquaint us and make us enjoy arts, writing and design. However only recently I realized that my love for storytelling is also genetic. It’s from my mother! Whenever our parents would go out of station, my mother would leave letters for me, deliberately funny and also informative as to how the house is to be managed even if just for a day. To add-on, my mother documented her entire trip to Europe last year through writing while my father made videos. Together they have created an amazing resource for us to lavishly feed on.

If I go a little farther in history, my grandmother was very particular about the dresses her daughter’s would wear. She would go beyond limits to get the perfect cloth and accessories, design “modern” dresses and doll them up. She recently gifted me a documentation of my grandfather’s recipes of jams, juices and wines.

Design is not always a deliberate nomenclature for an activity, it’s just there…everywhere…

My mother sitting ready with preparations for my 21st birthday at 12:00 am



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