Some Wondrous Clothes…Some Lasting Memories!
My mother sewed many of our clothes, especially dresses, when my sisters and I were young. If she didn’t economize with hand-made garments, she did it by shopping in budget departments or at reasonably priced retail stores. What she selected for us was “sensible.” Sensible, however, was never fun!
Once we reached our teen years, if we wanted anything beyond her “sensible,” we had to buy it ourselves. In-style fashions were primarily our responsibility since mom thought fad-garb was ridiculously expensive and lacking in quality. (I think these were just her excuses to get out of buying us anything “cool.”) I learned the hard way—when classmates made fun of some of the things I wore—that I had to part with some of my babysitting money and “get with it.”
This lesson was well learned. One of my purchases was a plaid kilt from a very expensive clothing shop with shoes—plaid flats—to match. I had to babysit every weekend night for two months to pay for these totally popular, “in” wardrobe pieces. But it was worth it. The skirt and shoes made me feel special. They gave me a confidence I had never known before. In addition, wearing these treasures provided me with wonderful memories that last even to this day. They made me become a true believer in the adage that “clothes make a person.”
My grandmother told me often that a good coat, good shoes (polished, of course) and a good haircut will always afford you a positive first impression from others. I thought of her words when I was a single, career gal in my 20’s. I was smitten by a white leather full-length coat with white fox fur (the real kind) spread generously around the collar and cuffs.
Not very sensible, I thought when I first saw this wondrous and expensive creation. After all, it’s white! But days of dreaming about this coat finally led to action. I decided I could forego food and entertainment for six months and bought the coat. I could hardly wait to return home to try it on. When I got through my apartment door, I flung off my “very sensible” drab grey coat and put on my exquisite white beauty. I knew that I looked beautiful in it. More important, I felt beautiful in it. That night was spent waltzing around my apartment as an elegant lady in a very special coat.
The coat retained its magic for years and years. Then came the day when my size outgrew the coat. I was sad, but I reasoned that the leather did look a little dirty and worn and the fox trim wasn’t quite as full and fluffy. It was time to discard this friend. (However, I did remove the fur and used it on the hood of the cape I wore when I was pregnant and when my weight ballooned to more than 300 pounds.)
Now that I’ve lost weight, I wish I had the coat. I know, however, that it probably wouldn’t be as special as it was in my single days. The coat, like the kilt and matching plaid shoes, served its purpose. They helped me discover that every once in a while you need to buy a garment that makes you feel really special. Luckily, I’ve continued to purchase memory-making clothes. If I need a “pretty boost” there is always something in my closet that will do this for me.