Like my blog friend AC, I am sometimes wakeful in the wee hours. It doesn't bother me; instead, I take the opportunity to remember stuff--walking through the interiors of various houses has always been interesting: some things are detailed down to the smell; others, like the interiors of certain drawers are a blank.
Monday night I began thinking about the role of clothes in my life--the outfits I remember fondly, or with embarrassment, as the case may be.
1955. I was in the eighth grade and circle skirts were THE thing. You know, the ones with poodles. There were also other iterations. I convinced my mother to buy me a midnight blue taffeta circle skirt which I wore with a balloon-sleeved blouse (another fashion crime of the era). The blouse was white, sprinkled with tiny gold stars, and so transparent that a sturdy full slip was a necessity. I think there was a cinch belt too.
I know I wore this outfit to a dance at the Hyde Park Rec center. (At this time the parents of my group of friends were trying hard to socialize us--dance classes at Arthur Murray, dances at a local venue we all called the O-A-K (actually it the meeting place of an organization called Omega Lambda Kappa, but we didn't know from Greek letters.)
All I remember of that dance at the rec center (aside from my stylish duds) was Jimmy Warren and Suzy Rosenberg breaking away from the staid fox trot and 1-2-3 backstep that Arthur Murray had taught us and putting on an exhibition of jitterbug. They spun and twirled, faster and faster. He may have thrown her over his head; I know he slid her between his legs and back in one particularly impressive move.
My mind roamed through the closets of my past: the fringed leather vest from our year in Iowa, the little linen shifts (made by me) from my days teaching at a prep school, and my embroidered jeans and long skirts from my time at Independant Day School (aka the hippie school,) Villagers, Capezios, Lanz--all names that once set my heart racing.
Who needs sleep when you have memories? I'm going to explore this further--in the daylight hours.
What about you all? Any garments from your past that conjure up memories?
5 comments:
I'm a guy. There are no garments to remember.
And a Canadian guy, at that. No surprises here.
This brought back so many memories! I had versions of all the styles you mention. My fondest memories are of the clothes I wore in my early twenties. I was into retro forties jackets and hippie jackets that I kept for years. Finally gave them away, but did love them.
Never have lain awake thinking about old clothing but I have thought of the various houses I've lived in since I can remember and tried to draw a mental picture of the layouts. I did come across a sketch my dad had done of the first house I remember which was when he was a missionary in the Philippine Islands. My metal drawing was just about right, too. We lived there was I was 2 and left 5 years later.
A white crocheted bikini—what was i thinking????
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