What my mom taught me—and didn’t teach me
The three passions that most define me—writing, cooking and sewing—I didn’t learn from my mom, fashion designer Malu Veloso. But to be passionate about the things I loved, to chase after dreams like they never went out of fashion and to look at the ups and downs of life with hope and optimism, those things I did learn from her.
Before she got into fashion, my mom’s first business was making wedding cakes. My earliest memory as a toddler is sitting in a high chair in our kitchen, watching her fashion flowers out of icing. There and then, I wanted to learn how to cook, but she thought I was too young. Later, when I was a bit older, she started making children’s clothes and had no more time to teach me.
Taking pity, my dad bought me a Betty Crocker cookbook for boys and girls. At age seven, I taught myself how to cook and today, I accept students as young as three years old at Tiny Kitchen because I know what it’s like to be that age wanting to bake. And all three of my kids insisted to be taught to cook as toddlers because they grew up seeing my school buzzing with kids every summer.
Neither did my mom teach me how to sew, for unlike my lola Marina Antonio, she herself didn’t know how to use a sewing machine. Yet even without knowing how to make patterns or cut fabric, my sister Letlet and I followed in my mom’s shoes, running Vicky & Letlet Veloso for 17 years together before I retired to focus on my first love—writing.
What my mom did, though, was to encourage me and my sister in our early days when we still had very few customers. She had a standing order from Julie Gamboa of Milky Way to make the uniforms of their restaurant staff, a simple white dress with decorative red stitching. My mom passed that order on to us so that we had work even while still trying to get ourselves established. Today, I, too, like to encourage my kids in their endeavors of art, fashion and business. Supporting them from the very start is important, for that’s watering the seeds of dreams.
As for writing, that came naturally to me because I was a voracious reader as a kid. My mom’s writing was very hard to decipher, probably the very definition of chicken scratches. She has been writing down her memories lately, and because she writes the way she talks, these are surprisingly organized and clear. I keep all these, of course—the makings of a future memoire.
Even though I don’t have a green thumb, my mom taught me to love flowers. On my first trips to Europe as a teenager, she would buy a couple of stems of tulips or whatever looked lovely, and put them in a glass in our hotel room. No doubt her years in a finishing school in Switzerland passed on to her the European love for flowers. But growing up amid my Lola Marina’s gardens of scented rosal, dama de noche and jasmine surely gave her that love for the fleeting beauty of flowers and green growing things.
Like my mom, I get up before dawn and love to see the day brighten as the sun rises. My mom will then putter around the garden, watering the plants and snipping off the dead leaves. Watching her almost continuously in motion, from garden to kitchen to checking her orders—yes, she is still active to this day—is an Antonio trait of an active lifestyle with many interests. Masipag (hardworking) is the term that best describes her and her mother before her.
My mom is also forever learning, she loves her television cooking shows and, afterwards, will immediately have ingredients bought to try out something new. I do exactly the same. Having always that attitude of a student is part of what keeps my mom young.
But the most important thing I’ve learned from her is to be able to navigate the smooth and bumpy roads of life with hope and optimism. It’s the faith of knowing all things happen for a reason, good can come out of any terrible situation and we have a God for whom nothing is impossible.
All of us imperfect mothers will continue to make mistakes as we try to do what we think is best for our kids. It’s not easy when my mom and I, or me and my kids, come from different generations with matching mindsets. But my mother’s true legacy isn’t measured in carats and bankbooks, but in passing on the ability to be content and to enjoy the true wealth that is found in family, health and home. And the most important thing I learned from her is this: What’s the dream? Let’s chase it!
