Just like almost everyone
else, I'm thinking about seasonal food a lot. (You're NOT? Really?
) And the memories of Seasonal Festivities Past take me directly to
memories of the the women who cooked those huge, savory-sweet,
nap-inducing feasts. One of those was my paternal grandmother, who
was a professional tailor and dressmaker for decades. My memories of
her are relevant here because because she was also the orchestrator
of some of my best holiday outfits. She was the one who introduced
me to the discipline and joys of dressing up. And that not only
beautiful women were entitled to wear wonderful clothes.
In a previous post, I
briefly mentioned my mother's mother, the delicate, purple haired
one. She didn't work outside the home after building bombers during
WWII. My other grandmother was the tallest of all the women in our
family, and farm wife, block-sturdy with some physical heft and size.
She was short-waisted (a trait I inherited) and severe faced (some
of this, as well.) She had not an ounce of the swan-like beauty so
admired in the time, or the voluptuous movie star curves that were
also popular, but she loved and wore beautifully made clothes. I
don't know when exactly she learned to love the higher elements of
fashion in the New Look era, but she must have taught herself a lot
as she made clothes for her daughters, son and husband as a young
farm wife in Dust Bowl era West Texas.
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I spent a lot of my little
girl years in her alterations and tailoring shop in Southern
California, waiting for parents to pick me up after one or the other
finished work. There I saw my first fashion magazines, Vogue and
Harper's Bazaar. There were always the new editions on an old coffee
table she had placed in a little waiting area at the front of her
shop, as well as several months of well worn, previous issues. But
the best things were the out-of-date pattern books. Butterick,
McCall's and Vogue pattern books came my way after everyone was
finished with them, and I had an eternity of paper-dolls to cut out,
paste on cardboard and cast in little dramas.
I wasn't her favorite
grandchild, but her only granddaughter and dress me she did. From
special dresses for the first day of elementary school, to a prom
dress and pink bouclé
suit copied whole from Jackie Kennedy's pictures in Life magazines,
she saw that I had what was appropriate. Every Christmas brought
another dress especially for family holiday festivities. I'm now
desolated that I didn't keep a single one. We were a lower-middle
class family economically, but the way I was often able to dress
taught me a lot about the value of personal presentation and how
effective it is in bridging class issues.
She was not a cuddly sort
of grandmother, but she was always willing to teach. I learned less
than I could have or wish I had, but I can alter my own pants and
put up a hem, size a pattern, and (if I absolutely have to) set a
sleeve and replace a zipper.
In retrospect, though, it
was her own wardrobe that was most amazing . She often wore the
standard, shirtwaist house dress that was so ubiquitous in the 50's
and 60's. They looked practical, somewhat dowdy but ladylike even
then. They shared her regular closet with the gabardine suits she wore
to work. But she had a closet in her extra bedroom-sewing room that
was devoted to her "formals", and it was fairy-land for a
little girl. I never touched them, never played dress-up in them.
They were way too precious for that. I only looked.
This is not my grandmother. This is Mamie Eisenhower. But
same period and in a dress, bag and gloves a little less grand than
my grandmother's formals ...
She was an officer in the
Eastern Star (a fraternal organization related to the Masons) and
as such, she had occasion to dress in ways most of the women I knew
never did. Her dresses were full length ball gowns, mostly in pastel
colors, in amazing fabrics; satins, chiffons, netting, silks and
brocades. She had a jewelry box full of elaborate costume jewels
that went with each dress. She kept the empty bottle from
Schiaparelli "Shocking" on her dresser ... but this special
closet smelled of the lush-but-much-cheaper "Tabu" while
her everyday clothes closet smelled more like mothballs and Tide.
All this was so much at odds with her otherwise tailored and severe
personality. I can't prove but can imagine that she participated in Eastern Star primarily because it was the one place a woman in
her position could ever hope to wear such dresses.
I've often thought of her
precious closet, and more often still as I grow older. That she had
the mad skills that allowed her to dress way beyond what she could
afford to buy ready- made is a constant lesson to me. I don't pretend
that I make any of my own clothes, but I learned a lot about how to
make things happen by sharpening and then using the talents I have.
And I learned how clothing often defines social ritual and occasion,
and can elevate events beyond their intrinsic meaning. And that it's way more than permissible to spend time, effort and whatever treasure
you can muster to dress yourself for the holidays or special
occasions (or any occasion, really.)
But the most important
thing I learned from her is this: one doesn't have to be pretty, or
fashionably shaped, or rich or young to be and feel beautiful
in her clothes. Every woman should know this feeling deep in
her bones at least a few times in her life. And in this case, more
is really better.
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I was completely blown
away to find that her shop, Kay's Alterations is still there, in one
of what I understand is one of several incarnations since the late
1960's when she retired. I'm told by the very nice woman who owns it
now that all the previous owners kept the original name because it
has always meant high quality to the community.
Her old shop, as it is as of January, 2012
Wow. I bet she'd be happy
to know that. Maybe she does.
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Even though I'm not quite
ready for prime time this week, I'm linking up with Patti's Visible Monday anyway!
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