MII.W11 LOOKING BACK ■ 11111111.11.1•1111111111.11111•11111.11111111.1111.1111111111.111111111111111111.1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111 FREE AIRFARE For Two To ORLANDO or HAWAII Richard Charles Rare Coin Galleries needs your old coin collections now! ! Not only will we get top dollar for your collec- tion, but we have arranged for a limited supply of travel vouchers for free airfare for two to your choice of Orlando or Hawaii. (Some restrictions apply.) So knock the dust off the old safety deposit box and bring in your old coin collections. Then start packing for Disney World or Diamond Head! Call your Richard Charles Rare Coin expert for details today: 356-5252. Richard Charles Rare Coin Galleries Michigan's Only Fully-Accredited Coin Dealer 4000 Prudential Town Center Southfield, Michigan 48075 (313) 356-5252 THE HIT OF RETAIL HAS COME TO YOU: SUCH A DEALT I OUTLET "The coolest, 50% OFF ALWAYS hippest, most stylish Fashions for Men, Women & Children BIRMINGHAM SOUTHFIELD CLAWSON The Corners 13 Mile & Southfield Rd. 645-0065 LINCOLN PARK Lincoln Park Shopping Center Lincoln Square Plaza 26135 Greenfield & 10% Mi. 557-1022 ST. CLAIR SHORES Bywood Plaza 560 14 Mile, E. of Crooks 280-4900 ANN ARBOR/ Opening Soon The Shores Opening Soon WESTGATE Opening Soon 50% OFF ALWAYS LIVONIA Livonia Plaza Opening Soon SHELBY TOWNSHIP Lakeside Hall Road Crossings Opening Soon Advertising in The Jewish News Gets Results Place Your Ad Today. Call 354-6060 100 FRIDAY, MAY 31, 1991 Remembering Mama's Only Status Symbol SARA NUSS-GALLES Special to The Jewish News F or women of my mother's time and place, a mink coat was the ultimate status symbol. Perhaps it was the priva- tions these Holocaust sur- vivors suffered during the war and their enduring nightmares that made this fur coat, trite as it may have been to some, so mighty a symbol of security. In my mother's case, security did not extend to many material objects. She permitted herself few com- forts. She walked long distances to save pennies, foregoing the bus despite heavy bags of groceries and the fierce Chicago weather. She work- ed in a quickly darkening room, rather than "wasting the light." And rarely did she eat anything fresh, hot and tempting. She preferred instead to wait until the family had finished and eat what was left over. When it came to her wardrobe, her everyday clothes were nondescript. From when my parents came to America in 1951, they worked in a variety of jobs. Finally they ran their own business, often 14 hours a day, seven days a week. Much as we four children labored to awaken them to the patriotic practice of taking a summer vacation, we never succeeded. To close the store, to abandon their comfortable apartment, to go to sleep in strange beds and be at the mercy of a restau- rant were all mishigas, craziness of the most bizarre sort. So many American sym- bols of arrival were viewed with a mixture of suspicion and disdain in our family that it was startling when sometime in the 1960s my mother began admiring and expressing interest in the mink coats of other women in their circle. The extent of our parents' social life was visiting friends' homes, weddings and bar mitzvot — bat mitz- vot were as yet uncommon in their milieu — and the one or two dances held each year by the "greeneh," the newcomers' organizations. So why this sudden, burn- Sara Nuss-Gallen is a writer in Madison, N.J. ing interest in mink? I don't know. But soon my mother had acquired a richly hued full-length mink coat with a large shawl collar and, best of all to me, ex- quisite rhinestone buttons. It looked lovely on her, made her feel like a queen, and was the perfect just- below-the-knee length which fit the short hemlines of the time. It was an oltser, such a treasure to my mother that she rarely wore it, saving it for only the most splendid of occasions and then guarding it like a hen protects her chicks. She never had her name or initials embroidered into the lining as some women did, so she lived in constant fear of The coat looked lovely on her and made her feel like a queen. having it mistakenly, or even purposely, taken. When she did finally wear it somewhere, it was like having a baby all over again. My mother either held it, sat with it or, if moved to dance, circled only within a small radius of her mink. Even then, she watched it con- stantly. I thought of it as an albatross. But to her it was a cherished symbol of how far she had come in this new world. In 1984 my mother died. My sister and I, the two daughters, discussed what to do with her precious coat. It was now some 20 years old and quite outmoded, so there was no rush to claim it. We pondered the possibility of having it remodeled and finally agreed that my sister would take the coat and have it redone for herself. Five years passed and I had forgotten the coat until the strong anti-fur lobby aroused both my sympathy and my memory of my mother's mink. I asked my sister about the coat and discovered that she had decided against remodeling. It hung in her spare closet. She said she would never use it, and I was welcome to it. I put it on and noticed that something had changed since the last time I had tried on the coat. In recent years I had grown partial to