OK. Now you can’t say you forgot. I am giving  you a one week notice that next Sunday is Mother’s Day. I am very lucky. My daughters never forget.

In fact this year they were so early and the gift was so nice, I can plan for a week or more as to what to do with it. They gave me a fabulous gift certificate to the Halekaulani. This is my favorite hotel in Hawaii. The best part is that not only do they have a world class spa, they also have beautiful shops and great restaurants.

I think I could spend a whole day there. Having lunch, getting a pedicure, and then going shopping in some of their boutiques.

I looked up Mother’s Day at the Halekaulani online. There was a fabulous treat. A room for the day so you can enjoy the pool and beach, manicure/pedicure in the Spa and then tea for two on the Veranda. I called to book it and the girl in reservations said, “Oh, that was for last year. That special expired May 10, 2010.” (very small print)

I have had some lovely Mother’s Days over the years. One of the funniest was in 1964 at the restaurant on top of the Space Needle in Seattle. My husband took me and my three children to Mother’s Day brunch. The children were four, six and eight and I was 28.

It was a champagne brunch and they wouldn’t serve me anything alcoholic because I didn’t have an ID with me.

The following year (1965) we were going to have a Mother’s Day dinner at Canlis restaurant in Honolulu, Hawaii. I went to Alfred Shaheen the day before and bought the latest fashion, a beautiful black two piece pants outfit with a huge gold Chinese belt buckle.

I dressed very carefully for the occasion and when we got to the restaurant, the maitre de’ said,”I’m sorry but we don’t allow women in pants.”

My, how times have changed. Now women can wear pants anywhere and men don’t have to wear jackets out to dinner. I remember going to the Kahala Hilton Hotel in Hawaii around the same time. Yves St. Laurent had designed some very dressy men’s safari suits. These were gabardine with belted short sleeve jackets and slacks to match.

As we were being seated one night, the couple in front of us were in high fashion. The man was wearing one of these Safari suits, which had to have cost $1000 in those days. He was turned away for having short sleeves.

The wife was so disappointed that the host came to their rescue and ‘let’ him wear one of the waiter’s jackets. The waiter was Philipino and about five feet tall. His jacket was white linen with a pointy notch on either side of the open front.

When the man put the waiter jacket on over his Safari jacket, the sleeves hit him between the elbow and the wrist. Instead of looking like Tony Curtis in ‘Kilamanjaro’ or Robert Redford in ‘Out of Africa’, he looked like a circus monkey. (But he was then seated.)

The last silly dress code ruling I remember was at the Hyatt Regency Hotel on Maui in 1981. I was on my honeymoon and we had decided to go dancing at Spat’s, the hot nightspot at the hotel. My husband of two days put on a long sleeved ivory silk shirt, navy velvet St. Laurent jeans, a Gucci belt and Charles Jordan shoes. I put on a strapless sun dress.

When we got to the nightclub they wouldn’t let us in. My husband was wearing ‘jeans’. Not allowed and they indeed had rivets.

We were disappointed but we drowned our sorrows at the Chocoholic Bar. That dining room didn’t seem to care if a hotel guest was wearing ‘jeans’.

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