Prada, Oh Prada!

A true Southern Belle, Grandmother Rutledge would sew me pretty outfits. She was a proficient seamstress and Mom as well. It partly explains my fashion sickness. One in particular, I loved. It was a pink plaid skirt and shirt combination. The unique thing I loved about it was the back of the shirt was designed like a ‘X’ from the arm holes. I was young enough to wear it bra-less. I was under 10 at that time. I wore it to Cotswold Elementary one day and felt like the belle of the ball. It was a ‘peacock feathers’ kind of day for me so I didn’t play rough like I was wont. I didn’t run in Physical Education (PE) class and didn’t get dusty under the tractor trailer rubber tires. The bottom third of the tires were buried in the hot baked clay. I would get inside the biggest tire of the 3 and climb the hollowed out insides to the top where I would hang until some hapless other student would walk under the tire. I would just drop in on them then run away gleefully.

Another time before going to Cotswold, I wore overalls without a shirt. I didn’t feel like wearing one and Mom gave up the battle. However, when I got to school, a kid said, “Where’s your shirt?” and I replied, “I didn’t feel like wearing one. I like my outfit today.” The kid tattled on me to a teacher who took me to the lost and found to find a shirt to put on. It was red. I did the best I could with the options I had that day. I was embarrassed and didn’t pull that off again.

Once Mom bought me an OshKosh corduroy overall in one of my favorite colors–fuschia. I took it to Dad’s house for a Christmas visit. I wore it to a special dinner at Quail Hollow where my half sister Rachel, step sister Tiffany and step brother Jason were all seated at a round table. Jenny walked by me and just happened to notice a “tear” in a pocket of my overalls. She got me up and dragged me around the large round table in the dining room. We arrive at my Dad’s seat. Stepmother starts pointing out the “tear”. To me, and anyone else who saw it, it was apparently an intentional scissor cut. She harps into Dad. “See the kind of stuff her mother puts her in?! These overalls are used. Look at this tear! Dad looks but didn’t react. He could tell by looking that it was a cut made by a scissor and not a tear made by hands. He knew it would be difficult to tear into good quality corduroy. He knew my Mom well enough to know her taste for finer fabrics such as the thick corduroy made by OshKosh B Gosh. To keep up appearances, he nodded to Jenny and indicated that he didn’t want a scene. I brought the overalls back home after my trip and showed them to Mom. She was upset because those overalls were new and not from a thrift shop.

During and after the course of the divorce, Mom realized that she had to start shopping at thrift shops to make ends meet. She also had to start working. This is why I go to thrift stores even though they pay people with disabilities subminimum wage. I find the variety of thrift stores interesting because many different combinations of tops and bottoms can be made. Also, there are many different eras and genres of clothing at thrift stores. In other words, I can entertain myself for hours at a time for just maybe 40 or 50 dollars in one shot and have several different outfits to take home. In addition to that, since I’m small, I can find oversized clothes and alter them to fit. Also, smaller women give away almost brand new clothes if they get fat. I’ve bought top of the line clothes at Goodwill such as Tahari, Brooks Brothers, Guess, Gap, and so on. H&M does make an appearance but I’m wary of buying trendy clothes since they tend to become shop worn, a phrase Mom taught me as we would go on our legendary shopping trips. The sad part is that she would take some of my clothes and sell them to thrift shops for extra money. That’s why I stopped coming to visit. My stuff would disappear.

11th grade, I had this huge crush on a boy in my class. His name is Michael Hanbury. He was Danny in the Grease production that year. TJMaxx, off we went to find a pretty outfit for me to go watch the show with Mom. We found a bias cut black background with diagonal colored stripes on it. I loved it. It fit so well. For some reason, I only wore it once. I’d love to have that dress again!

Later after my divorce, I was dating a guy named Paul Mozdziak. I quickly found out that he is a cross-dresser. While we were dating for about an year after my divorce, we went off to Angels Thrift Shop in Cary, North Carolina. There, Paul found a suede tan skirt with a slit and wavy bottom. He bought it for me. Later, my Mom noticed it and complimented me on it. “Paul picked it out for me.” Mom never liked the fact that he is a crossdresser. “That’s one of the side benefits to dating a cross-dresser–they know clothes!”, I piped in. Mom rolled her eyes.

It’s sad to note that nowadays I only buy essential clothes for work. I miss dressing up to go out on a date to a show or concert. It’s sad to note that all my clothes are strung across the floor in my Roanoke apartment because I don’t have any furniture. Planning is a beast. In hindsight, maybe it is a good thing. While this was supposed to be a story, it turned into an anthology of clothes worn in my life and shopping trips with characters. It all began with Grandma though. It is from her that Mom and I have artistic ability. Mom has a painting done by Grandma. I am currently questioning whether or not I should pursue the artistic side of my personality because it’s a different kind of hard than to do what I like–rote data entry and analysis. I still hope to put my Biology degree to some use. Time shall tell.