La Belle Deminondaine, thank you for mentioning your inherited items. Some of my favorite pieces are also handed down to me from relatives and friends, both deceased and living. I appreciate the items for what they are, but there is that extra layer of meaning and pleasure that comes from wearing something that was owned and worn by someone I love. Some of these items were gifted from friends or relatives who are still alive, or were at the time. Others were plucked from the belongings left behind after a loved one passed on. I still have a couple of wool cardigan sweaters that belonged to my grandfather. The first few winters after he passed, I wore those sweaters almost daily. I have a wonderful long green wool coat from an aunt who passed, and even though it shows a bit of wear on cuffs and a couple of tiny moth holes, I adore it and can't imagine ever parting with it willingly.
Another aunt, who is both a fashion hound and a packrat (like myself), had to downsize from her large house to a much smaller place. For a little while, my cousins and I had a bounty of mint quality vintage clothing to choose from. I especially love wearing these items to family events where I can show my aunt that her loved but underused items are being loved and enjoyed. I think her reaction is a mixed one. She misses her stash of lovely things that she sometimes *never* actually got around to wearing (tags still attached!), but we bond over our shared style sensibilities.
I'm still not sure where I will ever have the opportunity to use that super lush black lamb fur muff she gave me. Not practical in the deep south of the U.S. ... but when will I ever have the opportunity to *own* a lamb fur muff again? So I keep it, and treasure it, even though it's a crazy thing for me to own. I think I saw one in a movie once when I was a child, because when I would imagine what my wedding would look like, it was always a winter wedding with my attendants dressed in long red wool coats, and wearing white fur muffs instead of carrying flowers. Where I got this image, I have no idea. And it's not like I was the type to fantasize about weddings, either. This was the only one I ever had. I finally saw Doctor Zhivago just a few years ago. Now *that* is the kind of winter that calls for a lamb fur muff. I'm going to visit a friend in Russia during the next year. I'm tempted to go during the winter, and to use valuable luggage space for the muff. I wonder what the Russians will think of the crazy American tourist with the old fashioned fur muff.
Then there are the items that were made for me by those I love. When I was younger, I had many clothes that were hand made by another one of my aunts. Now, I wish I had kept the best of those items. She is still around, but no longer sews, so I'll never have that experience with her again. Not that I appreciated it at the time. She usually chose the item she would make for me, based on what she thought would look good on me, and I seemed to spend a lot of time standing still while she stuck pins into the unfinished garment and tried *not* to pin me as well. I vividly remember matching dresses she made for me and a cousin. the bodice, sleeves, and flounce at the bottom were solid burgundy, but the skirt was a patchwork of fabric squares left over from practically everything else she had made in the past couple of years. The dress was long with a high neck and long sleeves. It was my "Christmas party" dress, and my mother always pulled back my hair into a half ponytail with a matching burgundy ribbon. The fabric squares themselves, although bright and beautiful, were made of that polyester that *everything* seemed to be made of during the 70's, as was the bodice. The dress fit perfectly, and looked wonderful on me, but it wasn't the most pleasant garment to wear because it was hot and didn't breathe. On a funny note, I remember her telling me that she used my male cousin, who was my age, as her dress dummy once when I wasn't available. My male cousin was in no way the type who would choose to do this, and was probably mortified. Thinking about this now makes me realize how strong willed my aunt is and was in order to make him put on a long, polyester dress in warm weather and stand still in her living room while she pinned the garment in place. This makes me smile now.
There is so much more to fashion than "fashion". Anyone who thinks that caring about what we wear is frivolous just hasn't delved deeply enough into the subject. Thanks to all of you for letting me ramble on like this. And thank you all for helping Angie and Greg to create this community, and for the posters who open such wonderful discussion threads. I treasure the opportunity to share both the frivolous side of fashion as well as the deeper, more emotional, and often more intellectual, musings that many of us have about what we wear and why.
