Who is that elegant lady sitting in the iconic bar at La Valencia hotel, in a plush velvet booth, scotch in hand? She wears an immaculate yellow silk shirt with a long string of pearls. Her silver hair shines, beautifully coiffed. She has an arresting, expressive face with an aquiline nose and full brown eyes awash with a love of life. Her charismatic smile reveals pearly white teeth framed by crimson lips.
That lady,
Selma Malk, was my mother.
-Ann Lipschitz