Take last week. I went out in the storage room to find the costume box. A friend was invited to a Halloween party ... and she had ... nothing to wear.
I told her that I had a box ... full of stuff ... and she was welcome to borrow whatever she wanted to ... out of it.
Trick was ... I had to find the box. Treat was ... what I found in it.
So I drug the blue Rubbermaid box into the den. It was dusty and cobwebby on the top. Been a long time since anyone in my house went looking for a costume.
Costumes are very cool. You get to dress up like someone ... or something ... that you're not. Wearing a disguise to hide who you really are ... on the outside ...
And for a moment in time, you pretend ... or maybe, just maybe ... you actually let who you are ...the real you ... on the inside ... come out & play.
Along with the blue box, there was also a black trash bag ... all knotted up at the top. I didn't really remember where it came from or what was in it ... so I figured I should take a look ...
Inside the bag ... were layers and layers of netting. I think that's what it's called in seamstress language. It was that wiry, mesh looking stuff ... that's stiff when bunched together ... and when worn underneath a skirt of any style or length ...
adds poof ... and body.
There were teeny, tiny petticoats made of netting scrunched up on elastic ... and there were layered contraptions designed to add shape to longer skirts. And there were even one or two that had elaborate fastners designed in some rag-tag corset style.
There were toddler sizes ... to lady sizes. Some were adjustable.
A few other delightful accessories were buried in that bag. Lace handkerchiefs. A vintage cummerbund & bow tie ... burgundy ... in it's original packaging ... with a starched ... never-worn men's pleated tuxedo shirt ... in a plastic sleeve ...
So ... apparently ... some of the treasures came from my grandmother's
costume & bridal shop.
Others ... of the meshy get-ups ... I know for certain ... my mother made ... to enhance something I was wearing somewhere .. at some time.
"Mommy-Made" ... whoosh ... another memory rushing in ... that's an entirely different story ... for some other day!
As I unloaded the trash bag ... I figured I might as well separate the adult sized things ... from the children & youth sized stuff ... to make it easier & quicker the next time I dived in ... looking for a disguise!
Opened up the box. And all of the things I remembered were waiting for me there.
Witch hats ... a collection ... some with hair ... orange, green, pink ... some without ... severe, drab toppers for Icky's annual outing. There were black capes & robes. And a black dress that drapes over a multitude of sins.
It's been a few years since I reviewed my witch wardrobe. Simply been keeping a couple of favorites tucked away in the back of a closet ... inside ... for those days I wanted to venture out ... un-disguised!
... if the broom fits, ride it ...
Beneath those finds were layers & layers of stories of Abbi's & Jessi's Halloweens. From the My Buddy clown suit that fit the 6 month old perfectly ...
(my personal favorite of all time) ... to Cinderella ... Belle ... two cute Little Mermaids with shimmering tails ... a ghost ... a pumpkin ... and I am wondering ... how in the heck did I ever let the McDonald's french fries ... get away ... for good?!?!
Next came some truly lovely, vintage dresses from the 1950s. Things my mother had worn as she made the transition from young lady to woman. Some were handsewn ... others have designer tags ... from some long ago time ... nestled in the necks or bodices.
Petite ... that's the size of the these dresses. Not sure that any of us gals in the family will ever wear them ... now ... but some lucky great granddaughter will delight in them ... one day ... I am certain of it.
My Cotillion days were fodder for some cool '60s and '70s styles ... and a few cherished pieces were there in the box, too. Back in the day ... Cotillion required a "party" dress for the gals ... every week ... and formals on occasion.
And sometimes there were theme nights ... that required us to dress up as something or someone. Early disguises. Some of those are in there, too.
One in particular ... a red cut-velvet skirt with black fringe around the bottom with a sassy black patent leather bolero-style vest ... my saloon girl look ... A little daring ... for that MJ ... but fun ... always fun!
The BIG find of the day though ... caught me by surprise ... took my breath away. I had to sit down ... and re-live it ... the good ... the bad ... the ugly ...
Bittersweet. Than a rollicking laugh outloud.
There it was ... kinda sorta folded up ... but seriously, it's impossible to fold up a patent leather ... anything!
THE .... redpatentleather ... vest !!!
It was the bomb! Honest! Or maybe it was ... groovy ... I don't think things were the bomb ... in the early 1970s.
It came with a rather ordinary dress. As I recall, the dress was some kind of knit material ... it was sort of like a long sleeve turtleneck sewn on to a skirt ... which hit somewhere just below the knees. The top was white ... the skirt part was blue.
Drab. Plain. Very unassuming. Even with the long, red jacket-ish vest on top. Nothing too special about the outfit. It was comfortable and fit all of the requirements for appropriate attire for girls ... at school.
Mini skirts ... and hot pants ... with boots ... were all the rage ... on the high fashion scene. That was THE look. And all of us girls ... wanted to look like ... THAT!
Not sure what magazines I read that summer before 8th grade ... probably Seventeen ... or Glamour ... but in one of them ... there was a picture of the cutest outfit ... ever!
White short shorts .... topped with a long ... red patent-leather vest ... belted ... and finished off with red patent platform shoes!!!
H.O.T. Hot, hot, hot!
Oh ... to look like ... THAT! On the first day of school ... especially since I was going to a new school ... it was the perfect time to stop being the selfconcious wallflower ... and burst forth as the self-confident rebel ...
It was possible. Anything's possible. And besides, I had all of the components of the outfit. I had a really cute pair of white short shorts ... never really liked the concept of "hot pants" ... that I had been wearing all summer.
And Mimi had bought me some adorable red patent leather shoes ... stacked platforms that laced up ... to jazz up the unassuming dress. Matched the vest ... afterall.
That's one thing I will say for Mimi. She was all about style ... and accessories!
And the piece de resistance ... was THE vest! I had the vest. And once you took it off the plain little dress ... it was daring ... spectacular ... perfect.
So I cut out the picture. Showed it to my mom. She thought it was the bomb .. ahem .. groovy. Then I said ... hold on just a minute ... and I raced into my room ... and came out modeling ... my outfit ... my new disguise ... no more mousy MJ!
Needless to say, she was stunned. At my audacity ... at my sassy-ness ... my style ... my glamour. She agreed ... that it was ... IT!
A plan was hatched ... by my mother and me. She was not only going to allow me to go to school ... on the very first day ... in this high-power fashion statement ... she was encouraging me to be bold & daring.
"Life is a daring adventure or nothing." ~ Helen Keller
I really don't remember a single other time that my mom was undeniably my ally & cheerleader in cutting edge adventure. That was usually my dad's role ... only in arenas that placed value on abilities & performance rather than outward appearances & social status, though.Both of us were pretty sure that it wasn't going to be within the dress code guidelines ... but it was a new school ... a new year ...
And rumor had it ... that possibly .,.. girls were going to be allowed to wear pants ... and maybe even shorts .... so it was worth a shot ...
What was the worse that could happen?!?!
I'd get told not to wear it again ... or something like that. Still ... I would have made an astonishing first impression ... on the first day of school. Surely that would be enough ... for me to be ... SOMEBODY ...
It's funny how memories go. My older brother went to school with me that day ... yet I don't have any clue what he wore ... or even what he thought about what I was wearing. I am pretty sure that I simply didn't exist ... in his world ... at the time.
My father ... however ... not only noticed what I was wearing ... but had quite a bit to say about it. He was flabbergasted !!! Actually, that is an understatement.
To this day, I am not sure whether he was more astonished that I would want to wear something so ... racy .... or that my mother was encouraging me to do exactly that!
No way, MJ! That's what HE said. Adamantly. He put his foot down. Then he put his foot down again. Again. Again. Again.
How in the world my mother won this argument, I have no idea. Or maybe she didn't ... win. It's possible that we were both ... defiant ... I really don't remember.
All I know is that I headed out the door ... looking like ... a gorgeous long-legged model in some high fashion photo shoot!
In my dreams, of course. I was under 5' and weighed less than 100 pounds at the time. It's amazing that there's no photo to document the monumental occasion.
So what happened!?! Did my defiance & daring change my life forever?!?!
Not so much.
Never even made it into the halls of Booker Jr. High. That's right. Snagged by some crochety ole teacher as soon as my feet touched the parking lot ... and whisked away to the principal's office before .... anyone ... important ... saw all the stunning ... that was ... ME!
She was probably just jealous of my youth .... my spunk ... my radiant beauty. Bet she was a spinster, too. To be honest, I don't think I ever saw THAT teacher again ... not a single time in the next two years.
One phone call ... and then a very long wait ... until my mother arrived ... and she was reprimanded for my "inappropriate" dress ... then we were both sent home.
It's the only time I was ever sent home from school ... for any reason.
... and my dad ... oh yeah ... he had the last laugh. He rubbed it in ... chuckling
"I told you so" ... for years & years. As a matter of fact, I imagine he's having a good laugh ... right this very minute ... at the memory of it all.
Beauty ... and acceptance ... has nothing to do with clothes or accessories ... that's what he always told me. Or makeup ... or fingernail polish.
I remember he really razed me about fingernail polish ... sure, maryjane, go ahead and wear it ... if you think you need it ...
That's what he'd say. I can hear him ... as if ... it was yesterday. Still not sure that I
"get it" ... but I never paint my nails that I don't think about him.
My father ... he's been gone from this life ... for 25 years.
Last week he got my attention ... in the most extraordinary way. Not really sure what to make of that encounter ... yet.
The red vest, well, guess I will be keeping it for another 40 years or so ... as a reminder ... that disguises are only necessary if you want to give a false appearance ... or assume some different identity.
A reminder ... that being me ... is always enough.
www.lifelessons-mj.blogspot.com
(c) October 2011
