A trip down memory lane
If you looked at a number of my patterns on this blog and the photos in my posts, you probably noticed that I am an avid wearer of skirts and dresses (and am not afraid of knitting them!). At age 3, like many children, I became aware of my gender. In my case, it also came with a firm decision.
I remember vividly the day I realized I was fundamentally different from my two older brothers. I was standing in front of the mirror in our foyer. I was wearing bell bottom pants and a red jersey, hand-me-downs from my brothers. I had the standard no-fuss bowl haircut popular in those days. I looked like a little boy.
My Mom was in the bathroom with the door opened, brushing her teeth, completely unsuspecting of the truth bomb I was about to drop on her. I firmly declared "Mom, I am a little girl. I should wear little girls' clothes."
That was probably quite a disaster for her to hear, but she calmly said "You are absolutely right." She did not explain to her 3 year old that the family was tight financially and that it would be much easier if I would just continue to wear my brothers' clothes. Instead, she put out a call to her sisters-in-law. Luckily, I had 7 older cousins, all of whom girls. I received bags of interesting hand-me-downs.
I learned to put together outfits mixing vintage tops and bottoms with new clothes, creating my own style. I looked up to and learned from my Mom, who did not own much in the way of clothes, but was always dressed tastefully. She was beautiful and I wanted to be like her one day.
Since that fateful day when I made the decision to only wear skirts and dresses, I have not worn pants, except when skirts would get damaged, or when I can afford to take a break from feeling good about myself.
A recent picture of me wearing a dress handed down from a cousin (and carrying a baby goat - don't ask). The dress is vintage early 1970's. I get sad when an old outfit falls to pieces and has to be discarded. This dress luckily will be as good as new as soon as I finish changing the zipper.
I remember vividly the day I realized I was fundamentally different from my two older brothers. I was standing in front of the mirror in our foyer. I was wearing bell bottom pants and a red jersey, hand-me-downs from my brothers. I had the standard no-fuss bowl haircut popular in those days. I looked like a little boy.
A picture of me, a few months after I decided I was a little girl. I was growing out my hair.
My Mom was in the bathroom with the door opened, brushing her teeth, completely unsuspecting of the truth bomb I was about to drop on her. I firmly declared "Mom, I am a little girl. I should wear little girls' clothes."
That was probably quite a disaster for her to hear, but she calmly said "You are absolutely right." She did not explain to her 3 year old that the family was tight financially and that it would be much easier if I would just continue to wear my brothers' clothes. Instead, she put out a call to her sisters-in-law. Luckily, I had 7 older cousins, all of whom girls. I received bags of interesting hand-me-downs.
I learned to put together outfits mixing vintage tops and bottoms with new clothes, creating my own style. I looked up to and learned from my Mom, who did not own much in the way of clothes, but was always dressed tastefully. She was beautiful and I wanted to be like her one day.
Since that fateful day when I made the decision to only wear skirts and dresses, I have not worn pants, except when skirts would get damaged, or when I can afford to take a break from feeling good about myself.
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