Amnesia or Denial?

May 30, 2000

AMNESIA OR DENIAL?

A few years ago the last grandson asked for help on a third grade report. He was to ask grandparents how things were different when they were young, specifically what we wore. In good faith I said, "Oh, about the same as now." Then I came upon a picture of my brother and myself, about 7 and 3 respectively. There he was, resplendent in the white linen suit my mother made (and laundered for school), and there I was in a lawn dress and Mary Janes. Then I found class pictures and it began to come back. I hated my clothes, at least in winter. First there was a sleeveless waist made of very firm fabric, buttoned in the front. Then cotton underpants. Then long heavy cotton stockings that had to be hitched to front and back garters which hung down from the waist-vest thing. Then bloomers of fabric to match the day's dress. These were short enough to be concealed by the dress, when I was right side up, and long enough to prevent shame to the family, when I wasn't. Then the brown leather shoes, just higher than the ankle. These were laced and tied (with great concentration - I had to practice this). The shoebutton hook was reserved for the Mary Janes. The Mary Janes were reserved for Sunday School and birthday parties.

There was no sorrow about not having " what everybody has." We grew up in a one level community of engineers who commuted to New York, mostly to the Bell Lab at 463 West St. and we all dressed alike. Many of our stay at home moms had college degrees (Cornell '16, MIT '18, etc.) and sewing helped to pass the time, along with Bridge, club meetings, church work, incredible house keeping, gardening. My mother's sewing skill assured that my clothes equaled anything in the stores. While she was growing up on the South Dakota prairie, she and her mother made everything except that once or twice a year a seamstress came to stay and make the really special dresses. I'm sure every move she made was carefully studied. Therefore, mother made coats, suits, whatever we needed, with bound buttonholes, inset pockets, hidden plackets, invisible hems, smocking, and all.

We were still dressed this way in 1927, when Lindy arrived back home, and flew out in a circle from New York. The whole school went out to the playground to wave. We had to stand still a long time for a time exposure. The picture is about 3 feet long.

I can't remember if those miserable garters and stockings were part of summer clothes for school, or not. One thing sure is that every one of us went home, said "Hi, Mom," maybe had some cookies and milk, changed our clothes and went out to play, until it was time to listen to the radio at 5 o'clock, and get cleaned up to meet the fathers coming in on the Lackawanna at 6:20. Nothing since has looked as big to me as the front wheel on a steam engine did when I was 5 or 6. The change from winter weight clothes to summer was a dramatic moment, postponed by parents as long as possible, on the grounds that we would catch cold. They were right. I still enjoy going out too soon without a coat, and frequently catch cold.

At some wonderful moment in family fortunes, we began annual trips to Bambergers' in Newark for school clothes. Mother couldn't cope with shopping with the two of us together so the wonder was enhanced by having the whole day alone with her, with no big brother. From then on the stockings disappeared, the shoes got lower, and the clothes became comfortable. Newark (NJ) remained a lovely city with fine stores, while we were young. It was a shock to see it years later, boarded up, with taxi drivers afraid to stop.

I have never learned to like clothes. For me, one of the good points of the sixties revolution was establishing the idea that you can wear anything you want. I was a little hurt to see blue jeans at the Comedie Francaise, (1972) but at the same time I enjoyed being able to be comfortable in clothes that I could stuff into a carry-on bag.

How could I have even suggested that we dressed " about the same"? Blue jeans? Shorts? In school? Beach pajamas with very wide legs were the first pants that nice girls could wear. When slacks became accepted in the effete east, I took a pair as a gift to a South Dakota friend. She gasped, "Put those away before my mother sees them!" That was around 1934. I don't think any girls wore slacks of any kind through my high school years or college, which gets us to 1941, and World War II, and change beyond measure.