"My mother has been upcycling way before it became cool" writes Anusha Couttigane

I adore my mother. She’s been the biggest influence in my life, encouraging me to take up everything from music and dance to fashion. Throughout my childhood she filled many a supportive role, from chef to personal chauffeur. But mostly she has been the inspiration behind many a fashion choice.

Week on week, you read about the cavernous details of my wardrobe. But that is nothing compared to treasure trove that my mother has amassed over the decades. The woman has everything, from a collection of Indian silk saris to beautifully beaded shawls in every colour. On more than one occasion, you’ll find me sporting one of her prized jewellery sets (more often than not, without her permission or knowledge). Now past retirement age (I can’t say exactly how old, just in case she reads this) I can safely say that my mother has aged gracefully. And so has her style. She’s had little choice, given the constant warnings of her children against the mutton-dressed-as-lamb look. But, thankfully, this is a trap she never falls into.

Neither does she dress like a grandmother, despite being one (not by me). Her getups remain stylish without being ‘trendy’ because she was never one for following trends. Yet it’s true what they say, that history repeats itself. And so does fashion history.

I should know, given that fashion history is exactly what I studied at Oxford. But it never ceases to amaze me when my mother emerges from her room on a Sunday morning in spring sporting a gingham statement skirt that may as well have wandered off the runway of McQueen. “Oh this old thing? I made it in the seventies when we were living in Africa.” That, to clarify, was when she and my dad were living in the heart of the African bush, completely devoid of the influence of fashion media. And she probably made it out of old curtains, Sound of Music style. Yes, my mother has been upcycling since way before it became cool to do so.

She has also, by default of being a few decades ahead of me, acquired a large volume of garments in every conceivable fabric. Which is why, being the fabric-lover that I am (silk all the way) I await with eagerness the arrival of the sheer lattice boleros that will top the trends this summer. My mother’s got more of these than a capsule collection at Debenhams.

Yet without a doubt my favourite item of hers is a hand-me-down cashmere cape, given to her by her own mother. It was made in the early fifties, making it an authentic period piece. It’s stunning – velvety black with delicate hand-embroidered flowers in sunny yellow and green.

I have such a sentimental attachment to this cape that I am almost too scared to wear it but, when the fitting occasion befalls me, I shall pluck up the courage to show it off in all its regal glory. And, whilst I have no desire to see my mother depart this earthly world any time soon, I have laid claim to this gorgeous design when she does. After all, good things come to those who wait (and I’m willing to wait quite a bit longer).