Random thoughts this morning as I dress to start the day, looking at myself in new media methods of layering and what each layer means.
When I was young, I wore a lot of hand-me-downs; from two older sisters, often I would have the same dress for years in three different versions–my mother a seamstress who would take advantage of a yard goods sale and buy a bolt. Then older, I sewed my own, from 14" long skirts to gowns and three-piece suits. Now I am back in secondhand mode, from sisters and nieces, yes, and nephews too. But this is who I am; a layer of people I have known and loved.
Jessie’s jeans and Erica’s jersey, Jim’s plaid flannel shirt, my father’s pullover sweater and my girlfriend Chris’ thermal vest.
Why not? They’re a part of me inside anyway.
(P.S. Don’t wear, but still have in my closet, a shirt each from Danny, David, Dick, a sweater from Danny, well it was his–that’s a Christmas story in itself.)
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
I was also a hand-me-down girl. As an adult I find I am not nearly as much a slave to fashion as those who grew up with new clothes. I’m more attuned to favorite old items, and the sentiment of clothing and fabric.
Yes, I agree; it’s the feeling of the clothes and it speas of comfort and as you say, sentiment.