Your peace, a piece of clothing that you remember and brings back memories reminds us that we have memories that belong to each piece of clothing that we keep even though it is no longer wearable or does that fit anymore.
I have a dress I wore when I returned to Morroco to Rick’s Café and played the part of the woman who made the most famous quote there.
This is significant in my life still, and I will never get rid of the dress.
Love the conviction in that, Jill! And I trust that you've got that same story written down, or that you're sharing it verbally, for those who will someday remember your connection to that dress. 👗 Thank you for sharing about it here!
Beautiful. Such lives we lead. You’ve done well. Clothing (and hair styles) really defines a time. Some lovely memories here. My sister’s wedding dress was surprisingly similar to yours. Grin. Thanks for another excellent read. All the best.
I loved this, Elizabeth. It wasn't really about the dresses at all, it was about the women who wore them, and the lives they quietly carried inside the fabric. Beautifully written. X
All the dresses here are fabulous, each in their own way. I'm feeling a little envious that I never had an equivalent of your white leather dress. I am so glad for you that you listened to your friend and let yourself have that dress and the experience that came with it.
I love this! About 15 years ago, I had a short, black, faux-leather jacket with a peplum flare at the waist. I wore it with a short black-and-white skirt that had three silver chains attached at each hipbone. I added black tights and ankle booties, and I felt like a bad-ass! My son called it my rocker chick outfit. (I was 50+ at the time). I still have the skirt, but the jacket crossed the bridge to jacket heaven.
I have this halter top.....worn once...as always your work is relatable and tugs the heartstrings while we readers appreciate our own dynamic paths. Thanks Elizabeth!
I love this, Elizabeth. Took me right back to the only high school reunion I attended; my tenth, as well. I arrived, reticent. I wore my favorite outfit (I've written about it before); the hot pink linen cropped jacket, complete with shoulder pads in 1989, and the white polka-dot on black high-waisted pants, with a black turtleneck sleeveless unitard. No one recognized me. I'd lost a significant amount of weight since last spotted at graduation. 70 pounds, and I had a more refined sense of style (blue suede jazz shoes to go with). I was in the anorexic era of my eating disorder. When I introduced myself, everyone was floored and gave me that icky feeling...the "now you're acceptable, so we can treat you nicely" bullshit. I decided that night never to attend a reunion again, and I have kept my word.
I've been looking at the possibility of wearing a Jewish star, and went online looking for one. But I've decided that the one my grandmother gave me when I was 7 is the one I'll wear. I've been holding onto it for decades, and I'm glad I never gave it away. But the old clothes? Getting rid of things at breakneck speed. I'm too small now for a lot of the clothing I've tried to hide my too-big body for years. I've always held onto smaller sizes/larger sizes, because I've gone up and down so much. No more. I feel confident that I will maintain my weight loss and live in the present. And if I gain or lose more, I'll make adjustments to my wardrobe as life takes place.
My clothes stopped keeping score a long time ago . I have felt nothing but relief after getting rid of things , so , I’ll take Door #3 : Regret at not asking someone a question that I’ve wondered about for decades !
I have two sisters and a brother : three of us have my father’s looks ; my one sister does not look like either parent - she has beautiful almond - shaped eyes , high cheekbones , and flawless skin . I was always too shy to ask my Mom if my sister’s exotic good looks were from someone on her side of the family , or was there a secret dalliance that Mom had , ( as if she would’ve spilled the tea on that one) !
My Mom and sister have passed some ago , so I’ll never get to ask my nosey question , perhaps for the best . 🩷
In our recent move, we had to make lots of decisions about what to bring with us into our new life vs. what to let go of because there's no good reason to keep it other than we don't know what else to do with it. And so, I had to decide whether to keep an item of clothing I was given in 1979--a "staff" t-shirt from the No Nukes Rally in Battery Park. It's a size I will never wear again. My kids aren't all that impressed that I was a radical for opposing nuclear energy. And if I ever have grandchildren, they'll probably think it's a quaint relic from another era, like a crocheted doily or something. But, did it make the move? Of course it did. I couldn't part with something that defines me more than any other item of clothing ever has.
Your peace, a piece of clothing that you remember and brings back memories reminds us that we have memories that belong to each piece of clothing that we keep even though it is no longer wearable or does that fit anymore.
I have a dress I wore when I returned to Morroco to Rick’s Café and played the part of the woman who made the most famous quote there.
This is significant in my life still, and I will never get rid of the dress.
Love the conviction in that, Jill! And I trust that you've got that same story written down, or that you're sharing it verbally, for those who will someday remember your connection to that dress. 👗 Thank you for sharing about it here!
Beautiful. Such lives we lead. You’ve done well. Clothing (and hair styles) really defines a time. Some lovely memories here. My sister’s wedding dress was surprisingly similar to yours. Grin. Thanks for another excellent read. All the best.
I loved this, Elizabeth. It wasn't really about the dresses at all, it was about the women who wore them, and the lives they quietly carried inside the fabric. Beautifully written. X
Great essay Elizabeth! Makes me think about what is still in my wardrobe...will be mulling over your questions today!
All the dresses here are fabulous, each in their own way. I'm feeling a little envious that I never had an equivalent of your white leather dress. I am so glad for you that you listened to your friend and let yourself have that dress and the experience that came with it.
These older photos of yours always make me smile. What memories we have now! Remind me to tell you about my “big hair” experiences.
I love this! About 15 years ago, I had a short, black, faux-leather jacket with a peplum flare at the waist. I wore it with a short black-and-white skirt that had three silver chains attached at each hipbone. I added black tights and ankle booties, and I felt like a bad-ass! My son called it my rocker chick outfit. (I was 50+ at the time). I still have the skirt, but the jacket crossed the bridge to jacket heaven.
I have this halter top.....worn once...as always your work is relatable and tugs the heartstrings while we readers appreciate our own dynamic paths. Thanks Elizabeth!
I love this, Elizabeth. Took me right back to the only high school reunion I attended; my tenth, as well. I arrived, reticent. I wore my favorite outfit (I've written about it before); the hot pink linen cropped jacket, complete with shoulder pads in 1989, and the white polka-dot on black high-waisted pants, with a black turtleneck sleeveless unitard. No one recognized me. I'd lost a significant amount of weight since last spotted at graduation. 70 pounds, and I had a more refined sense of style (blue suede jazz shoes to go with). I was in the anorexic era of my eating disorder. When I introduced myself, everyone was floored and gave me that icky feeling...the "now you're acceptable, so we can treat you nicely" bullshit. I decided that night never to attend a reunion again, and I have kept my word.
I've been looking at the possibility of wearing a Jewish star, and went online looking for one. But I've decided that the one my grandmother gave me when I was 7 is the one I'll wear. I've been holding onto it for decades, and I'm glad I never gave it away. But the old clothes? Getting rid of things at breakneck speed. I'm too small now for a lot of the clothing I've tried to hide my too-big body for years. I've always held onto smaller sizes/larger sizes, because I've gone up and down so much. No more. I feel confident that I will maintain my weight loss and live in the present. And if I gain or lose more, I'll make adjustments to my wardrobe as life takes place.
Your dress was fabulous. xo
My clothes stopped keeping score a long time ago . I have felt nothing but relief after getting rid of things , so , I’ll take Door #3 : Regret at not asking someone a question that I’ve wondered about for decades !
I have two sisters and a brother : three of us have my father’s looks ; my one sister does not look like either parent - she has beautiful almond - shaped eyes , high cheekbones , and flawless skin . I was always too shy to ask my Mom if my sister’s exotic good looks were from someone on her side of the family , or was there a secret dalliance that Mom had , ( as if she would’ve spilled the tea on that one) !
My Mom and sister have passed some ago , so I’ll never get to ask my nosey question , perhaps for the best . 🩷
In our recent move, we had to make lots of decisions about what to bring with us into our new life vs. what to let go of because there's no good reason to keep it other than we don't know what else to do with it. And so, I had to decide whether to keep an item of clothing I was given in 1979--a "staff" t-shirt from the No Nukes Rally in Battery Park. It's a size I will never wear again. My kids aren't all that impressed that I was a radical for opposing nuclear energy. And if I ever have grandchildren, they'll probably think it's a quaint relic from another era, like a crocheted doily or something. But, did it make the move? Of course it did. I couldn't part with something that defines me more than any other item of clothing ever has.