Growing up, I used to use Mother’s Day as an excuse to make my dad buy something pretty for my mom, on behalf of me. One year, it was a porcelain carousel horse, another year it was body lotion scented with her favourite perfume. Swarovski figurines, a pendant, a decorative teapot. In more recent years, I would make my mother-in-law and my own mom matching pairs of earrings, because I had a jewellery business. This is nothing unusual. Mother’s Day has long been a kind of second Christmas for …
