Today I’m turning over this blog to the most amazing tall woman I know — my Mum. Her Mum is tiny. Her sisters are tiny. Mum is 6 feet tall.
I asked her to write about her experience being tall, and about raising a tall daughter. I’m forever amazed that she got me through the teenage miseries, and even more amazed that she survived far worse herself.
Mum got mad at sales assistants on my behalf, spent far more money than the other Mums on clothes that (mostly) fit me, yelled at me when I slouched, scoured Australia for large shoes and long jeans, despaired with me when teenage boys called me freak, and told me everything was going to be OK very soon.
And she was right.
Thanks Mum. Over to you.
“Growing up tall in the fifties on a tiny country community was a challenge. I was six feet tall at eleven. My Mum was five feet three, my older sister stopped at five feet two and my younger sister was considered tall at five feet six. My Dad was five feet eleven. When my Mum was young she had a thyroid operation and was told not to get pregnant for two years. She got pregnant in four weeks and when I started sprouting, their worst fears were realised. So this was freak territory.
“My Mum, though, to her credit, did her best. If she was going to have a tall daughter she was going to have a fabulous tall daughter. When I started slouching she shouted and when I kept slouching she got old stockings and every meal time she tied my shoulders to the chair.
“When our local doctor suggested an operation to remove bone from my legs she reacted with almost as much anger as I did humiliation.
“She found pictures – they were always appearing – of tall women. One model, Veruschka – look her up – Mum found her in the Women’s Weekly and then went looking for more. Tall and fabulous, I glued her picture onto my bedroom wall and she stayed there through my adolescence.
“Bringing up a tall daughter… my Anne’s an inch taller than me… I kept my Mum’s edicts in place. First pride. No matter that Mum and Dad were boggled by my height, they were intensely proud of me. They might not have a clue what to do with me – Mum’s attempts to dress me cute with my sisters were, seen in past family pictures – weird to say the least, but no matter what the outside world thought and said, my Mum and Dad thought I was beautiful. I carried that with me as I raised my own daughter. If you’re raised with that belief, even with the bullying and ghastliness of adolescence, if you’re raised with a core belief that you’re special it stays with you. Adolescence is always going to be hard for a tall girl and solid self belief is the only tool you can arm your daughter with.
“For me the hardest thing about having a tall daughter was knowing she’d have to go through that adolescent crap. The time when all the boys are a foot shorter, when all the girls are positioning themselves as the cutest, its a jungle and a cruel one at that. Knowing there’s another side doesn’t help. I kept saying high schools’s hardest but almost as soon as you end high school friends start being real friends, but Anne never believed and how could I make her believe when kids are so cruel? If I could have willed my daughter hand eye co-ordination so she could play basketball and thus have peers of the same height – that’d be my wish but no matter how many people approached me and asked me to train for their various basketball teams, the skills weren’t there for me and they weren’t there for Anne.
“As we lived in a much bigger community – and women are getting taller – there were more tall girls around for Anne, but she never did find her own Veruschka. I think she has now, with you guys. Her online blog has given her a Veruschka community of awesome women.
“Another issue is of course clothes. I remember for Anne’s high school graduation her Dad and I walking Chapel Street, thinking we’ll pay what it takes to find something to make her feel awesome. We found the dress – yayyyyy! – but in all of Chapel Street, the premier clothes and shoe strip in Melbourne, there wasn’t one single pair of shoes she could even try on. Her dad wanted to kill someone. In the end I think Anne’s and my distress was tempered by trying to calm Dave – when we walked in and a cute little sales assistant said `we’d have nothing That Big!’ he wanted to shove her shoes down her throat and it got almost funny. Dave’s not all that big for a bloke – it took that day to make him really see what Anne was facing.
“But now… She’s made it, my Anne. She’s an awesome woman, proud and tall, surrounded by people who love her for what she is and I couldn’t be prouder.
“So.. Advice for growing up tall?
“It can make you stand out. You’ll hate that at thirteen but at twenty if you have that knowledge it can be awesome.
“If you’re in the middle of adolescent angst, get a puppy. Dogs understand like no one else can.
“Find your own Veruschka.
“And one day just imagine, miracles can happen. In my family I’m now the short arse. How amazing’s that????
xxxx”
Thank you so much. This is lovely and uplifting. You have a great Mother!
I’m the strange one in my family. Everyone – all of the cousins, uncles and so on for a few generations – are of average height except me. I’m just 26, but thank God my parents fought with the doctor who wanted to do something about my height with drugs when I was 11.
Now I am happy and see not having many store bought clothes as a challenge. I bribe the woman who is my tailor and spend a lot of time thinking about my own fashion rather than what designers tell the masses.
Heads high with pride sisters!
Thanks for the blog, which my daughter sent me, & the Mum’s comments. My daughter, Emily, is 6′ 4″ (I’m only about 5′ 9″) & I can really understand what they went through, especially during Anne’s teenage years. For Emily every shopping trip ended in tears because there just weren’t any clothes long enough for her, she really really didn’t want to stand out from the crowd, & over & over again complete strangers felt they had the right to come up to her & say, “You’re really tall!” (incase she hadn’t noticed!) or “Do you play basketball?” It was agony, even though she had supermodel looks, bucket-loads of talent & creativity, & the most beautiful personality you could imagine. It seemed like an era when you knew of tall women like Elle McPherson & Uma Thurman, but basically most people still thought women should ideally be petit & child-sized. How bizarre!
I really admired the way she got through those years, often with great courage & lots of humour. (She made a T-shirt which said, “No, I don’t play basketball” on the front, & on the back was written, “Do you play mini-golf?”)
Now she’s a beautiful, glowing young woman, about to become a mother herself (we’re wondering whether her child will be very tall, or not…), & with a much healthier sense of self & body image than most of her petit peers.
I love you Em, & I think tall women look fabulous.
LOVE your blog and clothing line…so happy to have found you! Your mom is precious!
Thank you so much everyone! Mum is all kinds of awesome, it’s true.
Wow Thank you !!
What can I say but both my mother and I hear you !!
Its great to hear there is other 6 foot ladies who know exactly where you are coming from ! My mum had to put up with very similar whilst growing up but with 4 daughters and the shortest being 5 foot 10 1/2 she got through being upset by stares and comments and got with our attitude of oh well we are 6 foot so lets give them something good to look at
How lucky I was to have parents who didnt allow slouching gave lots of encouragement and support and very lucky to have tall sisters as well !! Amazon is a term we call ourselves very proudly I might add (much to some peoples horror).
Thank goodness times have changed and theres no more tears but lots of shopping to be had
Thank you
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