Growing up, my clothes were missing one thing – tags. Some girls looked down their nose on those girls that were tagless.
My mom made all my clothes. My grandmother supplemented with some summer shorts outfits and crocheted vests. By the time hand-me-downs got to me they were pretty much worn-me-outs that were mostly shirts from my brother. Now that’s something to be proud of! I thought I was in “high cotton” when I got my first pair of store-bought pants – straight legged blue jeans that I purchased with money from my first job when a junior in high school.
There were times I was a bit envious of schoolmates who had store bought clothes, though it was a bonus to have a mom who could make something by mixing patterns or by just looking at a picture. I didn’t really gain an appreciation of that until later when I was sewing tagless clothes for my kids.
I remember some of my favorite pieces of clothing my mother made for me. One was a princess seam taffeta dress. The fabric was bright blue with splashes of vibrant colors. After it was ironed, the skirt of the dress held its shaped and flowed like waves with every step I took. Even after it was washed, all it took was to be ironed again and it looked like new. When I walked, it made a crisp crinkly sound kind of like fall leaves blowing in the breeze.
Another of my favorite dresses was a long waisted yellowish colored dress with a brown print skirt and rounded collar to match. Mama even made me a black and white animal print bikini with a cut out heart trimmed in red.
There was a time when most girls wore clothing that was handmade, and most were of better quality than that purchased in stores today. No price can be placed on the time, sacrifice, and love that went into hours of cutting fabric, and sewing stitches and seams to make those garments. Though being tagless for the most part is a memory of the past, it is also something else – priceless.
