I have one month to go until Easter when my granddaughter will be wearing her dress made by me, Gigi. She told me yesterday that she wanted a pink dress again this year. Truthfully I had planned on white lace, but maybe we can meet in the middle. Hays and I will shop for his outfit, but I have to get started on Amelia’s. One month seems like an eternity, but it will pass very quickly.
My mom always made our Easter dresses growing up. Janice and I were dressed in newly sewn dresses each Easter and had the spring/summer new shoes to match. And you must choose carefully as these shoes were it until fall when new winter shoes would be selected. Mom could sew anything, and she could copy any outfit we loved. One thing was sure: we would have white gloves on as well, which I thought was wonderful because we usually had blue and pink fingers from the egg dying the night before.
I don’t know about your household, but in the South, Easter was the day to shine! That was the day that little hats appeared on the heads of little girls, and white, lace-trimmed socks were on their feet. It was amazing. Now, let me say, I was not and still am not a fru-fru girl. So dressing up in hats and gloves, patent leather shoes, and lace-trimmed socks was on the edge for me. The order of the day was “do your mothers proud.” But my granddaughter is over the top with fru-fru, and the order of her day is “more is better.”
From a man’s perspective, it was the day of miserable starched shirts and ties that cut off the blood supply to your head. I experienced this last year with Hays. At 6 years old he insisted that he was being choked to death as he was wrestled into his outfit.
I always loved the fragrance of the Easter lilies in the church. It is amazing how the fragrance of a flower will trigger memories. Before the age of children strapped into a car seat, I remember standing up right behind the front seat of the family car going to church on Easter. If we stood, then our skirts were not wrinkled when we arrived, plus the huge, ruffled petticoat that made your skirt stand out perfectly. It was glorious. We felt so grown up wearing those huge skirts.
We were also versed in the ever-famous Southern command of fashion: no white shoes before Easter and never after Labor Day. It just wouldn’t be right.
Thank you mom for making our dresses. We were the proud wearers of one-of-a-kind dresses made with love.
What are some of your Easter traditions? I’d love to hear!
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