The Diane von Furstenberg documentary: we still can’t have it all
I haven’t seen my 15-year-old son in a month and a half, and it’s killing me. I’m in Europe all summer for half a dozen career opportunities that were too singular to say no to — I’m heading a journalism internship for a NCAA women’s basketball star, attended the Cannes Film Festival for the first time in May, and am in Paris now to cover the Olympics. My son was here for most of May but returned to the U.S. to his dad’s, and I won’t see him until August.
This was heavy on my heart when I turned on Hulu’s Diane von Furstenberg: Woman in Charge documentary a few weeks ago, hoping for a little distraction after a particularly taxing part of our trip. The documentary definitely gave me that — for most of it, I was riveted by DVF’s life, which I had known little about other than her iconic wrap dress creation. I’m always moved by stories of women who seize the world on their own terms, especially because I understand how hard it is to do that, even a little bit.
But it quickly became apparent that in order to build her empire, DVF had to sacrifice time with her children. Her mother stepped in to raise the kids as DVF built a major brand, lost it all, and built it again.
There’s nothing wrong with a very involved grandmother (I fervently hope to be one someday . . . way down the road). Still, it reminded me yet again that women who aspire to heights and experiences outside their physical environment often have to make sacrifices along the way. All too often, those sacrifices include their children. I am experiencing this right now, and it’s agonizing.
My situation is not nearly as extreme as the designer’s; toward the end of the documentary, her daughter reveals that she was diagnosed with a lifelong neuro-muscular condition that her mother had missed simply because she wasn’t there to pay enough attention. DVF considers this to be one of her biggest regrets. As difficult as it is to imagine myself in the same position, I still have enormous empathy for mother and daughter, albeit in different ways.
Part of being a creative person, or someone who brings new ideas into the world through their chosen medium, means you have to be selfish, at least sometimes. Part of being a divorced mom means that you miss out on time with your kids sometimes as well. Living with both realities is difficult, and I am often thoroughly convinced I am failing someone, somewhere, at all times. I can handle failing most people, but my son is the one person I hope to do right by.
The documentary reminded me of an interview Anderson Cooper once gave about his mother, Gloria Vanderbilt, another woman I emphatically look up to and who also may not have been an “ideal” mother. He admitted that she wasn’t the kind of mom who would be baking cookies in the kitchen after school but said he didn’t want her to be that kind of mom, anyway. I am always one for throwing some cookies on a pan (and even making them from scratch), but the sentiment was one that I needed at that moment, and it’s one that I hold closely now.
After all, my son lives a unique life partly due to the opportunities that have existed for him throughout my career. We’re very close, and I’m involved at his school and with his friends; he’s a teen, so there are likely things about him I don’t know, but I don’t (usually) think I’m doing a terrible job. More than anything, I’m still hoping for the same thing I hoped for when he was born: that somehow, mothers can accomplish everything they want to, when they want to, and still raise happy children.