Handing down Joy

In elementary school, one of my neighbors was a few years older than me and her clothes seemed just a little cooler than the clothes I had. Or maybe just different. She had items that my mom or I would not necessarily pick out. But I was in luck because she often gave her hand-me-downs to me. 

Laura would come over holding a box stuffed with fabulous items: a white top showcasing a tiger with glittering purple stripes, neon green stirrup leggings, a “I’m Bart Simpson who the hell are you?” t-shirt (that I was allowed to keep after some convincing, but not wear outside of the house). It was as if the early ‘90s had exploded all over my bed when we dumped out the contents of the box. 

“Take whatever you want,” she would say with a grin, “I’ve outgrown it.” I wanted it all. You know what they say, one gal's trash is another one’s treasure. I sifted through the apparel trove carefully, taking stock of my new wardrobe additions. And then I saw it…

I remember putting it on and feeling like a princess. What is it about the color pink and lace details that transform you from a 10-year-old girl in her bedroom to royalty meticulously choosing your next ballroom dance partner? 

The silky nightgown came with a matching pink overcoat, which was definitely something I’d never had before. I would float around my room, twirling as if nothing could touch me. When I slept in it, I was Sleeping Beauty. I would not awaken for just anyone, (especially not my pesky little brother) but for a prince and my long-awaited kingdom! In the morning, I would don the overcoat and break my fast pondering my agenda for the day (school) and my royal subjects (math, spelling, reading). Everything was a little fancier in that nightgown set.  

I don’t know exactly when I outgrew the nightgown, but I’m pretty sure I was devastated. Thinking back, it’s funny how much make-believe and costume play is a part of growing up. My imagination would take me to other worlds, although my own world was a pretty great one in which to live. 

Now I’m 39, and shockingly, I did not grow up to be a princess. I’m married with a desk job and am the mother to two little boys. When I had my first baby, my friend Jenny gave me a gigantic box of hand-me-downs that her son had outgrown. It took me back to Laura’s boxes and I smiled, diving in. 

My older son used the clothes and, of course, received new ones as well; sometimes, I felt as if that could have been one job alone, managing his wardrobe. The clothes have served us well, however, because two years later I had another baby boy. 

As my older son outgrows his clothes, I stuff empty diaper boxes full of them and keep them in the closet for my younger son, who anxiously awaits going through the boxes each season. When the weather changes, I get the boxes down and we have a try-on session. I’m not sure who enjoys this time more, me or him. He digs through the box and again, I think of the hand-me-down boxes I loved so much as a child. 

And this way, I get to enjoy some of my favorite little boy pieces again, “the grandpa jacket,” the polo with bright orange dinosaurs, and the tiny denim jeggings. What is interesting to me, is that some of the items my older son adored, my younger simply refuses to wear and vice versa. As the younger outgrew the opportunity to wear them, this time I would set them aside (as long as they are still in very good condition) and consign them.

Virtual kindergarten in 2020-21 was not ideal to say the least. One of the silver linings, in my opinion, was that I got to know my son’s teachers better than I probably ever will again;  I interacted with them on a daily basis! My older son split the year between two fabulous teachers, the second of which has a little boy. An idea dawned on me as I was again packing up some clothes (they grow so fast!!) and I decided to send Mrs. K a message and see if she might want some clothing for her son. She thanked me and said she would happily pick up a box of clothes when she dropped off my son’s work packet for the week. And so began a fun exchange that has gone on for over a year now.

My son is no longer in her class, but just last week she stopped by to pick up some items and chat. Her little guy, she said, is still wearing the Frankenstein and mummy pajamas that we gave  him last fall (it’s March). This delighted my younger son, who was the previous owner and had loved those pjs as well. 

Now, I understand that getting a thrill from hand-me-downs is a privilege. I was fortunate to receive new clothes when I was growing up and I’m fortunate now to provide new clothes as needed to my children. I still shop consignment stores for myself and my children. It never ceases to amaze me how many brand new or nearly brand new items end up in consignment shops. Especially since children often outgrow clothes before they are worn out. This is slowly changing for me, as older boys seem to be rougher on clothing, but I still make an effort. It's good for the environment and I believe it also honors the people who made the clothes and the sacrifices they are forced to make in this world of fast fashion. 

I am attempting to teach my sons the value of taking good care of something so that others might enjoy it. Because you never know what might spark imagination, give someone a little boost of confidence… or the opportunity to become a princess.