Clothing

        Clothing was an adventure for me when I was growing up.  I always
dressed according to the standards that the adults in my world deigned to
give me..such as:

                   Scottish Lass?

My father's brother brought my seamstress grandmother a bolt of wonderful
material.  She proceeded to cut up the material to her own
specifications; a wide yoke, front and back, flared skirt to below my
knees and ruffles at the neck, bottom of the yoke (front and back), at
the midline of the skirt and on the hem.  Wonderful!  I wore that
couterier's nightmare twice.  Once to school where I stayed in the
bathroom most of the day to get away from the guffaws and laughter and
once fishing where, oops, I got it all muddy, torn and, thank you, thrown
away.  Why was I so embarrassed?  It was a wide green and red Scottish
plaid and I called it my boiled okra and tomatoe dress.

                 Omar's Tent Factory

As I related above, my grandmother was a seamstress by trade.  She must
have stitched all of my mother's dresses, too.  They were always so big
waisted and wide skirted when she took pictures in the sixties all you
could see was the skirt.  I don't have one picture of my mother in the
last twenty years of her life.  But I got wide angles of her dress skirts
and her six toed cats. My mother never wore pants but I have one picture
of her in the 1940's wearing a pair of over-alls and a plaid shirt.

                   Homemade WHATS!
 

Again, my grandmother made my underpants and slips, as well as my
dresses, blouses and skirts.  But I drew the line at wearing homemade
bras.  And she could do it, I just wouldn't wear them.  I begged my
mother to buy me bras when I needed them.
 

                    In the Groove

Because of my dubious, inherited body type, it was impossible for me to
be fashionable in high school.  That was the era of white Levis and
button-up fronts.  I longed for them but they didn't make them to fit a
person of my "personality."  My Wanter still wants to get into zipper
jeans and dress pants, but my Doer can't seem to make them fit
comfortably.
 

                   Mason Shoes

Did you realize that Mason Shoes had saddle oxfords made out of tungsten
steel?  Also that their brown Granny shoes never wore out?  How do I
know?  I wore a pair of each for over four years and finally they gave up
the ghost after four winter months of slogging through mud, snow and
being left neglected while I was employed as a paper girl after high
school.  Lordy, I thought I was chained to those shoes for life.  If a
husband would have ever thought I had those shoes, he would have never
worried about buying me shoes.  They would have survived three
pregnancies, two divorces and a child's college years if I hadn't
destroyed them on my paper route!
 

                  Cross Dressing

My mother had a friend once who bought all her clothing in  the men's
department at Anthony's Department Store.  I was always intrigued by that
idea.  Then years later, a client offered me a box of boxer shorts and
sleeveless undershirts that were nearly new when her husband died.  I
took them to the office and looked them over.  Her husband was a large
man and I sneaked the box back out to my car and took the clothing home.
Ever since I have worn boxers and undershirts around the house and to
bed.  They don't wind up around my waist like a gown; they don't bind
like pajamas.  I now understand why a lot of men wear boxers...they are
comfortable.  A lot better than those tight, leg-cutting nylon undies
girls wear.  I wonder if my mother would turn over in her grave to know I
am now cross-dressing!  I even buy my sweats in the men's department
because women sizes don't allow for my "build" and men sizes do.  My
friend got me a sweat set for Xmas and I had to unscrew my breasts and
leave them on the sink to get that womaen's LARGE on.  I didn't even
consider trying the 16-18 bottoms on.  I ran back to the men's department
and got me a X-large pair of sweats WITH pockets.

Addendum:In case, you men don't know...women aren't suppose to have
pockets in their clothing...it causes "ungainly bumps and obscene lumps
in strange places."  Now you know why they own thirty purses!  I hate
purses.  Once I tried to hit a man with my purse.  The strap broke and my
billfold fell out.  He grabbed it and that was the end of my money.  At
least with pockets, I can get a man close enough to grab him if he tries
to get my money!

Emma Pitts