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Welcome to Her Money.

So if you've got a mother who's anything like my mother then occasionally she

sends you things via email. She'll cut out an article or a recipe or I don't know something that she thinks that you should see.

It's generally not jokes.

My stepfather sends jokes, but men send jokes.

Women send literature.

So my mother, in the last couple of weeks,

sent me a column by a woman named Sally Friedman.

She writes for the inquire

as well as other places.

And Sally, I know, I feel like I know Sally because I went to college with one of Sally's

daughters and Sally has just, she's been writing for a long long time but

this particular column really said something to my mother and so I just want to read you

a little bit about it. She starts by saying

you'll never see me shopping for faux Danish modern furniture or checking out

flea markets for Kitchin 1950s memorabilia. I have to roll my eyes when I see people

drool over West Elm catalogs filled with shag rugs and streamlined sofas. That's because I'm no fan of mid-century sheik. I had enough of the

50s. In the 50s, young women still lived in their parents' homes because going away to college was the exception,

...