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Today was Dress Like a Decade. The kids found a poodle skirt I had made for one of the first bunch of kids in the closet.
"Let's dress up like they did in the fifties" said the thirteen-year-old.
“How do we know what that looks like" asked the nine-year-old.
"Easy, we'll ask Mama. She was there. She probably has some of the same clothes she wore then still in her closet."
How dare that little twerp imply that I am old and I think I did save a couple of those 500 yard petticoats up in the attic.
Rigging up the boy's costume for the fifties was easy. Roll up the cuffs of his Levi jeans, slap on a pair of white socks, hunt up a pair of tennis shoes, snatch the dog tags off the dog, bleach out a white tee shirt, roll a box of crayons up in the sleeve (fake pack of cigarettes) a little cooking oil on his hair and you have a an instant nine-year-old Fonze!
Now the thirteen-year-old was different mainly because I actually wore clothes from the 50's every day...in the fifties. She would be totally accurate.
I know; you want to know if there is a costume prize, certificate, recognition etc. Well, not this time, at least not that I know of but there will be pictures in the annual of the best costumes...which we will have.
The skirt that she found was originally for one of the girls from our first family and judging from the size of the skirt, I had not realized we had, at one time a short, round fat midget of a girl.
Fortunately, I had a bolt of gray felt that a sorority in town had used for something and was throwing away, but I beat the trash truck to their street. We folded the felt and laid it out on the floor. Using a yard stick and chalk we marked out a semi-circle. The good thing about felt is that you don't have to hem it. We salvaged the felt pink poodle from the other skirt and attached it at just the right spot to show at all times. The entire skirt was finished in less than an hour.
We tossed the two 500 yard petticoats into the dryer to fluff them even more. She found a white blouse that I starched heavily so the collar would stand up in back. I cut my long pink silky scarf so she could have a tie around her neck and a longer piece for her pony tail.
"Put the pony tail up higher. It has to show slightly above the crown of your head," I said.
"And you think I am particular about how I wear my messy bun!"
With her pony tail at just the right height, 1,000 yards of net petticoat beneath the gray poodle skirt, white Keds, cuffed white socks, starched collar turned up, and my, yes, my 1958 letter sweater, she looked like she had just stepped off the pages of my year book.
"Hey, this is pretty cool."
Pretty cool! High praise and definitely deserving of several pictures in this year's annual.
No therapy required this time, well not for her,… maybe for me.