It was created from navy blue and white polka dot polyester: a two-piece ensemble that was my most favorite outfit ever! Mom had expertly sewn the button-up top with long ties at the shortened waist, the kind of ties Catherine Bach later made so famous as Daisy Duke. Do I need to explain that we lived in a small Midwest town in 1976? The matching blue-with-white-polka-dot pants were generously proportioned and featured a wide flare at the ankle. I anxiously awaited the laborious process of creating my only new outfit for spring. There was buying fabric, laying out pattern pieces, pinning, cutting, more pinning, sewing, and hemming, that must have taken a mother of six at least a week.
The sun warmed my skin through the navy blue polyester the morning I originally wore that outfit to Mrs. Ruth’s first-grade class. I felt as fashionable as a JC Penney catalog model! I held my head high as I strode into the classroom, and later to the lunchroom, and the music room, accepting numerous compliments along the way.
It was the ill-fated afternoon recess when things took a devastating turn. Deeply involved in a heated game of girls-catch-the-boys I made a sudden turn and lunged in an unsuccessful attempt to tag Bobby Rasmussen. Next, my face was staring at the concrete, and sharp searing pain soared through my right knee. I gingerly rolled over, trying to hold back tears that were already forming in my warm, brown eyes. Then, terror struck as I looked at my aching leg. Panic set in when I saw my knee bloody and ravaged, because I saw my knee through a large gaping hole in my brand new polyester pants! The newly formed tears were poised for the boisterous crying that soon poured from my soul. I immediately knew my coveted, beautiful outfit was no more. The playground teacher and my best friend helped me hobble to the nurse’s office. Unbeknownst to them, my wailing was not for my ravished knee, but for my huge fashion loss. I felt nothing could have been a crueler fate.
A few hours later, walking home from school, I was as glum as a sunflower in the rain. I opened the front door and began to weep all over again for my pants, my ruined life, and my knee (in that order). My petite shoulders heaved up and down as I sobbed on Mother’s lap. She tried to console me, but we both knew there was no money to buy more fabric to make another pair of pants.
However, I was young, and in a few days I had rebounded from my regrettable situation. I was content in my usual hand-me-down and thrift store clothing, that was always pressed, clean and nice.
Then came the morning I never expected. I was getting dressed for school and Mom walked in my Holly Hobbie decorated bedroom holding the navy blue-with-white-polka-dot outfit. My heart sank, once again remembering that I’d never wear that darling duo again. But with a knowing smile on her face, she held up the pants by the waistband and the remaining fabric fell in place quickly to reveal the new, shortened version: Gauchos!
I was the first girl in my class to come to school wearing the latest fashion craze of gauchos. I held my head even higher, because now we were talking ultra-high JC Penney catalog fashion!
The sun warmed my skin through the navy blue polyester the morning I originally wore that outfit to Mrs. Ruth’s first-grade class. I felt as fashionable as a JC Penney catalog model! I held my head high as I strode into the classroom, and later to the lunchroom, and the music room, accepting numerous compliments along the way.
It was the ill-fated afternoon recess when things took a devastating turn. Deeply involved in a heated game of girls-catch-the-boys I made a sudden turn and lunged in an unsuccessful attempt to tag Bobby Rasmussen. Next, my face was staring at the concrete, and sharp searing pain soared through my right knee. I gingerly rolled over, trying to hold back tears that were already forming in my warm, brown eyes. Then, terror struck as I looked at my aching leg. Panic set in when I saw my knee bloody and ravaged, because I saw my knee through a large gaping hole in my brand new polyester pants! The newly formed tears were poised for the boisterous crying that soon poured from my soul. I immediately knew my coveted, beautiful outfit was no more. The playground teacher and my best friend helped me hobble to the nurse’s office. Unbeknownst to them, my wailing was not for my ravished knee, but for my huge fashion loss. I felt nothing could have been a crueler fate.
A few hours later, walking home from school, I was as glum as a sunflower in the rain. I opened the front door and began to weep all over again for my pants, my ruined life, and my knee (in that order). My petite shoulders heaved up and down as I sobbed on Mother’s lap. She tried to console me, but we both knew there was no money to buy more fabric to make another pair of pants.
However, I was young, and in a few days I had rebounded from my regrettable situation. I was content in my usual hand-me-down and thrift store clothing, that was always pressed, clean and nice.
Then came the morning I never expected. I was getting dressed for school and Mom walked in my Holly Hobbie decorated bedroom holding the navy blue-with-white-polka-dot outfit. My heart sank, once again remembering that I’d never wear that darling duo again. But with a knowing smile on her face, she held up the pants by the waistband and the remaining fabric fell in place quickly to reveal the new, shortened version: Gauchos!
I was the first girl in my class to come to school wearing the latest fashion craze of gauchos. I held my head even higher, because now we were talking ultra-high JC Penney catalog fashion!
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