Most of you are aware that my younger sister (I mention our birth order only because it makes her feel so good to see it in print) works here along side of me. When my sister retired as a patrol officer from a large police department in California, I conned her into coming into LoveFifi.com 10 years ago. Before I go any further, I must give her kudos for being able to transition from a life filled with thugs and criminals and bad drivers to our world of pretties and dainties. She was a great cop and she’s a fabulous lingerie merchant. The road from there to here was not always easy for anyone concerned, but it was well worth it.
The first thing I did was to give her a lacy push up bra to get into the lingerie mood. She IS a gorgeous woman, so I figured that it wouldn’t take her long to get used to the idea that she now wears satin and lace instead of a bullet proof vest over a sports bra. I figured everything else would follow.
It didn’t take me long to realize that you can take the girl out of the police department, but it’s not so easy to take the police department out of the girl. I expected her to be a little more rigid than the rest of us and to have a different point of view, but she struggled in our environment at first. No briefings, no uniforms, no weapons. At LoveFifi, we do deal with some slightly shady salesmen and modeling agents, so there are still a few scoundrels in our midst for her to interrogate.
In the beginning , it was hard to get her to loosen up. I love my sister and I was so excited when she became a civilian and I could help her find her real self. Because she is so pretty, she looked very fashionable when she stopped wearing a uniform. The problem was, she still talked like a cop. She spoke in numbers and code. I had to gently teach her that if you think I am crazy, telling me that I am 5150 is not going to hurt my feelings. If she wanted to tell me “let’s go!” yelling 10-8 will not make me move an inch. I made her stop referring to my car as my vehicle, and if she was going to be late to work it was not necessary to call from the road to alert us that she is “en route” and give me an ETA. It took me years to get her to talk like a real girl, but she is fully cured. Now people react in disbelief that she was a cop who patrolled the mean streets. I am so proud to have turned her from fierce to fluffy.
In our personal family life, my sister’s years as a policewoman still put a dark shadow over some of our events. She was still wearing that uniform and badge in her head and the thought of acting silly in public was too much for her. Although she was trying hard to follow my “free spirit” ways, her years of law enforcement and being an example to the community hampered her ability to have real fun.
A couple of years ago, one of my kids thought it would be a hoot to spend a Sunday at an ostrich farm that was a few hours away. Sister tried everything to get out of it, but she is a sucker for nieces and finally agreed to go. As we entered the farm, I could see her posture go completely erect and rigid and the scowl on her face told me that she would rather be anywhere else in the world. I bought everyone a tin plate full of bird food and we proceeded to the pens where the ostriches and emus lived. As soon as the birds see the food, they go nuts! Before I knew it we were all laughing wildly at the antics of these funny looking birds who would go to any lengths to get the food. We have amazingly hysterical photos of all of us running from these goofy creatures who not only stole the food, but the whole plate. They were also after anything else you might have or be wearing, so you had to move fast. No one had more fun than my sister. If you ever meet her, you need to somehow work up the subject of ostriches. She will tell you about her antics at the farm and how fun it was like it was her idea.
I am also busting at the seams, no pun intended, to let you know that my sister’s street clothes are no longer just black, gray, and navy. She wears color with the confidence of a peacock.
The biggest news is that she now puts up a Christmas tree and is almost joyful about it. She stopped doing it when her son left home and it always bothered me. Her excuse would be that she lives alone and she is the only one who would see it. Thank you Miss Bah Humbug! I finally convinced her that being alone is one of the best reasons to come home to a lighted tree at the holidays. She finally gave in a few years ago, but complains about how much trouble it is to put up and take down her artificial tree. Fortunately, she has figured all that out too. This year she put it up early in November and she just took it down last Saturday before her son came to take her out for Mother’s Day. Go Sister! You certainly wouldn’t want your son, the cop, to think you are 5150.