Fabric of memory

Sometimes the fabric of memories is actually fabric, the textures, colors, and designs imprinted long ago. Memory is much on my mind this summer as we clear out the basement of the house where we grew up. Because Mother was an excellent seamstress, we kids spent many hours in fabric stores, and measuring hems. These are not necessarily favorite memories, as they are among the most tedious experiences for youngsters.

On the other hand, Mom's sewing results were often gems. If the angels ever need plaid outfits for a choral event, my mom will be call upon to create perfection for the heavenly hosts.

The orange dress at the top was my first-day-of-kindergarten dress. My scanner has made the gold too pale and cold of a yellow. This is the sunniest, happiest dress possible for that fabulous day.

My sister and I found remnants of the fabric Mom used for our bedroom drapes (perfectly lined and pleated). I will always love these colors.

My niece is modeling one of Mom's masterpieces. We aren't sure if the fabric was an irregular Marimekko piece that Mom found at the Miller & Paine Budget Store. The results were as dramatic as any Sixties graphic fashion design. My niece will have to get a bit taller to wear it, though.

© 2009 Nancy L. Ruder

1 comment:

Christine Thresh said...

What a good idea to drag out old photos while you await the return of your camera. The treasures were fun to see.


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