Lois must've known she would have a daughter one day. She loved clothing. She loved expressing herself through fashion. And she kept many of her best-loved garments, surmising that one day they would be worn and enjoyed by someone else.
Daughter Billie Rae recalls seeing the clothing in the attic at the old house in mid-Michigan. There were two racks, to the left at the top of rickety old wood-slat stairs. Some articles of clothing were accompanied by the pungent-smelling mothballs (this was wool we were talking about!). Wrapped in protective clear plastic, the clothes were an unreachable enigma. As a child, Billie Rae looked at them with awe. As a teen, she was able to wear them!
Lambswool sweaters, pullover-style in emerald green or a soft blue, sometimes with a bow or a ribbed design down the front. Tasteful wool skirts to the knee, with stripes or a tweed pattern, mixing a myriad colors. Wool suits (everyone wore suits back then -- just check your vintage Nancy Drew books!) and fabulous firm leather pointed-toe pumps with spiked heels. White lacework on one particular dress worn to the Saginaw County Fair, as the story goes. (We can just imagine it, at the top of the Ferris wheel!)
Billie Rae treasures these articles of clothing now all the more, a year after Lois died. Though they are simply cloth and thread, they symbolize not only the mother who loved expressing herself and loved having fun -- they also symbolize an optimism and a zest for life. They symbolize hope for the future, above all else! These are sentiments Lois' daughter wants to not only embrace, but to share!
Lois repeatedly joked, the year that she turned 40, in 1978, that "life begins at 40." Now, in 2008, Billie Rae turns 40. In honor of this landmark occasion, and to show that we, as human beings, only get more valuable with each passing year, she hatched the crazy idea for a photo shoot featuring some of her mother's beloved outfits ...
Call it Year 40 -- The Photo Shoots: My Mother's Clothing.
In the wake of death and all that God teaches us through it, this photo collection is a celebration of life.
The goal:
To shoot as-is photos, with absolutely no retouching of any kind, in Billie Rae's home in Metro Atlanta, Georgia, once a week all through the year 2008, depicting Billie Rae wearing clothing belonging to her mother Lois in the 1950s and '60s. The concept is designed to give a glimpse of two separate lives, separated by 30 years. The no-retouching rule will be perfectly preserved because, above all else, we must be real. The photos are straight out of the digital camera (a ) and have had absolutely no alteration, not even cropping.
The result:
You may be the judge, below ... with narration by Billie Rae ... and you can click on each photo to see a larger version ...
The facts:
- Each photo is taken on a Sunday, as indicated by the date, typically in the morning before leaving for church.
- Almost all photos are taken at BRB's home in Metro Atlanta. The only exceptions are the May 18 photo in Ovid, Michigan, and the August 24 photo in Ontario, Canada, to accommodate BRB's book-signing schedule.
- All photos are taken by BRB with the timer feature on her camera, typically utilizing a tripod.
- All photos are taken with a simple point-and-shoot Samsung Digimax A503 (it's snazzy red -- you can see it in BRB's hand here).
- Each and every garment featured is an actual piece of vintage clothing once owned by BRB's mother Lois. Any clothing not vintage worn in the shoots is obscured from the camera's view, such as the modern skirt in "Brunch With Noritake."
- Each and every photo is 100-percent raw, straight from the camera. No photos are cropped. No photos are color-adjusted or altered in any way. All photos are shot as high-resolution .jpgs, loaded from the camera onto BRB's laptop, called up in a photo program to view only, then uploaded directly onto this web page without any altering.
- Generally, the camera's "auto" setting is used for shooting the photos.
- It takes about 15-30 photos per week to produce each entry, and each shoot averages 15-45 minutes.
- There will be 52, a full year's worth, of photos in the My Mother's Clothing collection at the end of 2008.
Daily Planet
Wool suit in wedgwood blue, January 6, 2008
Click here to see Lois in this outfit.
I remember wearing the jacket of this suit as early as junior high school, when "blazers," as they were then called, became quite popular. This suit has no manufacturer tag, just a zany, multicolored, patterned cotton lining and plastic wedgwood buttons bearing what looks like an Asian symbol in white. It's always been such a "Lois Lane" type of piece -- something Noel Neill could've been caught wearing. The bronze metallic Mary Jane shoes are modern-day Candie's, by the way. The pin is Pewabic Pottery of Detroit, mid-'90s. And the art hanging in the background is an antique print that originally hung in the garage of my family's old house in mid-Michigan, before it was moved to the master bedroom of our new earth-sheltered house in 1983, where it hung for another 24 years.
Grayday
White-flecked gray wool dress, gray and black pumps, January 13, 2008
Mother once remarked that she typically wore her white circle blouse under this delicate gray wool dress marked with fine white speckles. I, on the other hand, have always worn a black satin handkerchief, pinned to each side underneath the plunging neckline. I've always considered this a killer outfit, a one-of-a-kind. I wore it to a community event once in northern Michigan, where I worked as the director of communications for the local hospital system, and one of our female physicians hugged me and said, "Do you do any modeling?" Meow. A good friend in Detroit, "Water Bill," once photographed me wearing this dress. Click here to see those '90s photos. (And hey, that darling little Tiff &Co. bowl perched on the table next to me could be considered a tribute to Bill; I received it at a charity fundraiser in Detroit as his guest.) The pumps, also from Mother's collection, are soooooo '50s -- traditional spike heels and pointed toes in tri-tone gray and black. Jewelry: The clear quartz star pendant in sterling silver is my own, along with pewter monogrammed cuff, and sterling silver pink tourmaline cabochon ring from Ross-Simons. The "Pieta" statuette, which is also featured in the author photos for some of my books, once sat in the living room of our house and was a gift to Mother, inscribed on the bottom from a "J.C." (rather ironic, really).
Hey You
A nude of about a PG-17 rating; click here to view
The first outfit Lois ever gave her daughter,
January 20, 2008 (church was canceled that morning due to a winter storm in Metro Atlanta!)
They don't get any more raw than this. No makeup, no nothing. In fact, it's probably the first-ever published photo of me without makeup (or clothes!). The title refers to the Pink Floyd song (hence the phone -- I always loved that line of the song). Though this nude doesn't really reveal much, I wavered back and forth on whether to post the photo on this page or to link to it on a separate page for the slightly shyer in spirit. The compromise? It was posted in the first couple days of the launch of the My Mother's Clothing project, then separated out on another page after I sent the announcement to family and friends. No offense intended. Life is life, and as Freddie Mercury said, life is real.
Kathy
Turquoise hand-knit vest, cream knit cowlneck sweater, turquoise wide-tweed wool skirt,
January 27, 2008
Click here to see Lois in this sweater vest.
Every year for decades, Kathy, a close friend of Mother's, would knit her a sweater. Every year, it was a different color, a different style, a different approach. And each year Kathy would present it to Mother during the holidays, typically on New Year's Day. Mother's closet was full of these one-of-a-kind knit treasures. This particular beauty of a vest, circa 1960s, was one she wore often. Here, it's partnered up with one of her '50s wool skirts, this one a wide-wale tweed in cream and soft turquoise. And the cream cowl was the typical undergarment so popular in the '70s. The turquoise pendant is hand-signed by Native American artist Begay; Mother purchased it on our 1981 family trip to California. (Months after returning to Michigan, she showed me an issue of National Geographic that featured Begay.) The skull ring, also in sterling silver, was something I bought on our 1996 trip to the Middle East, at the traditional site of Golgotha -- "the place of the skull" -- where Christ was crucified. The brass bed? That was mine, purchased from the former Robbin's Furniture in Owosso in 1983 for my bubble-gum-pink bedroom in the new house. Thankfully, Kathy still knits. Just a couple years ago, she gifted me with a thick, deep-blue beauty that won a ribbon at the Saginaw County Fair.
Zilwaukee
Wool knit sweater and skirt in wedgwood blue, February 3, 2008
Click here to see Lois in this outfit.
Yes, Mother was rather fond of blue, especially this lovely shade, which she called wedgwood for the well-known ceramicware. She utilized this hue prominently throughout our new house in 1983. As for this particular outfit, I remember its "recovery." I was a young girl, and it was during one of our regular Sunday trips to my grandparents' house in Zilwaukee, Michigan. Grandma had found a small white garment box in the house that she realized belonged to Mother, and she set it on the kitchen table to go home with us that evening. We looked inside, and in it lay this sweet, delicate sweater set, folded carefully and evidently left alone for so many years. As it was reunited with the rest of Mother's vintage clothing in the attic, I could only dream that I'd someday get to wear it! Its ecru ribbon stitching across the front features rhinestones and pearls. The webbed design of the sleeves adds to the charm of this fashion. ("It's form-fitting," Mother rather-apologetically said when we were bringing it home from Grandma's. Indeed. At church the morning of this shoot, I sat way in the back, none too keen on the idea of anyone sitting behind me and my J.Lo butt.) And the waistband of the near-ankle-length skirt, right now, to this day (though not visible here), has the safety pin that Mother put there as a teen, marking which side was the front. "Worn in front" she had written in pencil on a small piece of card attached by the pin. I took off the card years ago, but the pin remains. I've gotta know what side is the front, after all. Blue topaz jewelry from Mother's collection.
Valentine
Red wool dress, white patent leather pumps, February 10, 2008
Here's a departure: Red. And my, my, my, what a red. With its heavy helping of orange, this dress will light up any room. I'm quite sure it was nearly the only piece of red clothing in Mother's collection. It's not a '50s piece (hello!) like so many of the others; it was most likely purchased a decade or two later. It was put away in a box in the rafters of the new garage, with many other pieces of clothing, for years. I wonder if Mother even wore it -- it's much more me than her, one of those pieces that can draw a clear distinction between us. I wear this one in honor of Valentine's Day, which, incidentally is my bro's birthday. Mother always made him a rich red "American Beauty" cake every year (often referred to as a red velvet cake). The pumps are white patent leather, also Mother's, with the typical pointed toe and spike heel and worn much over the years by me. The animated production cel on the wall is from the short-lived "The New Archies" show of the '80s. The poster of me hanging to the right was one that Daddy made from a photo when I was a kid. It shows me in the living room of the old farmhouse with my doll Susan and one of the two yellow cats we used to have -- "the Roonies" (they didn't have individual names; they were known only by that collective moniker!). You'll note the appearance of that same philodendron plant in a lot of these shots. It certainly has the run of the house, and its various arms stretch hundreds of feet. (I tried submitting it to the Guinness Book of World Records; they weren't interested. Rats!) Yes, that's a red fox -- long deceased! -- over my left shoulder. And yes, this photo illustrates why I really never wear lipstick -- to borrow from an appropriate cliche, I look like a little girl playing dress-up in her mother's boudoir!
.4711
Paisley linen dress in blues and greens, gold belt, February 17, 2008
When I was a kid, I had a small bottle of .4711 cologne. I don't remember exactly where it came from; I think it was some free gift from one of those mail-order catalogs Mother used to like to order from. But I liked it so much, with its turquoise, green and gold bottle and unique tangy, airy, German scent, that I bought myself a large bottle of it off eBay as an adult. When I saw this dress and what I could do with it by adding Mother's big gold belt from another (formal) outfit, I thought it looked just like that sweet .4711 bottle I loved (perched at left). The irony of this lovely linen dress is that it's actually one of Mother's maternity dresses -- now worn by someone who's never been in the least bit of a maternal way! (I guess you could say, though, that this is the second time I've worn this dress!) The shoes are my special-edition golden Betsey Johnson-designed Candie's, minus the golden Roman ropes! Most of the gold bracelets were Mother's, though the thick gold bangle on my left wrist is something I found at an antique shop in Kentucky. It's stamped "Jan. 16, 1906" inside the band. When life begins at 40, everything old is truly new again.
Brunch with Noritake
Striped wool blazer and white cotton blouse, February 24, 2008
Is there still such a thing as an engaged female choosing a China pattern? I don't know, but the practice was alive and well in the 1950s, when Mother chose Noritake's No. 5544, known as "Carlisle." Service for 12 in six gold-trimmed pieces, with many serving dishes besides. A truly lovely set that I am honored to now own. I remember it well, when I was a child. I was the only one, after all, who actually wanted to drag all of it out of the China cabinet in the dining room each time a major holiday rolled around. There was something about this stuff that just felt more like a special occasion. ... Oh, and the clothing? Well, let's see! ... This rather bold jacket is another refugee from the forgotten boxes in the garage rafters. What a treasure! I recall seeing it when I was a teen and thinking somebody could never pay me enough to wear that thing. How garish! But years later, it takes on a new shine! The white circle blouse underneath (referenced in "Grayday," above, and worn by Mother in the third photo at the top of the page) is something I've worn fairly consistently over the years. I jokingly call it the clown blouse. At church that morning, my pal Sandee (herself a very fashionable chick) adored it and termed it the puffy shirt, a reference to a "Seinfeld" episode.
Kathy Studious
Green hand-knit sweater and black tweed wool skirt, March 2, 2008
Click here to see Lois in this green sweater.
Kathy is rather studious, actually, being a college grad and a longtime teacher by trade, in-between knitting these delicious sweaters for my mother year after year. But really, this photo symbolizes much more. Mother told me she wanted to go to college when she was a teen but was unable to. Ironically, it was money from that same parent who wouldn't send her -- my grandfather -- that allowed me to attend Michigan State University when it came time. This sweater's color symbolizes the green of MSU, found in many places throughout Mother's home, as she bought MSU logo merchandise with pride from my attendance there (my freshman year, I thought she justabout would move right into the residence hall with me!). Well, thanks, Mother, and thanks, Grandpa, because attending MSU made all the difference in my life, setting me off on a path for which I'll be forever thankful. And the skirt? A lovely thick tweed in black with tiny specks of vibrant color. Mother had a smart pair of pumps and a purse that matched this black tweed, but I'm sad to say that I wore out those pumps a couple years ago! They rocked. Obviously. So ... though this photo in particular illustrates the difference between our two lives -- two very different paths, and maybe Kathy's own path is somewhere in the middle -- it also shows the life Mother would've been amused to have lived, and perhaps did live, vicariously, through me, for a little while.
Let Me Call You Sweetheart
Blue and white wool dress with empire waist, March 9, 2008
Though it was included in the boxes of clothing fished out of the garage rafters in 2007, and this is the very first time I've worn it, there's just something so familiar about this sweet little number. Maybe it shows up in a lot of older photos of Mother; I don't know. I just know I've seen it, and I'm quite sure she wore it quite a lot. I found it surprising that this dress is wool, a delicate wool in a fine weave that looks like a soft cross-stitch canvas up-close. The blue topaz sterling silver jewelry, which Mother purchased from the Service Merchandise catalog back in the '90s, is quite functional here: besides reinforcing the vintage feel, that brooch helped a very wayward bow straighten up! I can't recall ever wearing an empire waist before now, but I'll tell you, it's a delightfully girlish experience! Included in this china cabinet (top and middle rows, just right of center) is some of the crystal stemware Mother received for her wedding in 1959.
The Palms
Fine-knit cotton boucle suit in olive green, green pumps, Palm Sunday, March 16, 2008
Click here to see Lois in this outfit.
Here's another refugee from the garage rafters, first time worn by me but definitely worn a lot by Mother, as the collar label has disintegrated. There were a lot of nice shots of this one on the deck, but I had to choose one that showcased those fab shoes, sheer classics from the old Alden's catalog and following the well-loved '50s design (footprint?) of the white patent pair and black-and-gray pair shown above. I rarely get to wear them. (Really, how much of that green do you have in your closet? Me? The only other thing is an MSU letter-sweater!)
Psalm 91:1
Hand-sewn white lace dress, Easter Sunday, March 23, 2008
When I was a child, I would occasionally stay at my Great-Aunt Margaret's house in Chesaning, Michigan. Besides being my mother's godmother, my grandfather's only sibling and the one who gave my mother her beautiful yellow gold "baby locket" when she was born, my Great-Aunt Margaret is a sewer. One particular time I stayed at her house, she sewed three dresses for my eight-inch Batgirl and Wonder Woman Mego dolls (and anyone who knows the '70s Mego dolls / action figures knows that they didn't sell clothes for them, and Barbie clothes didn't fit 'em!). This is why, after all these years, I suspect it was Great-Aunt Margaret who hand-sewed this amazing lace dress for my mother (though my Aunt Bonnie is checking on that!). Stuck away in those aforementioned garage rafters for so many decades, this one was a little yellowed and stained at the cuffs and collars when I brought it out. I washed it then, last year, at my parents' house, then I washed it again in Georgia just a few weeks ago. Still stained. So began the weeklong process of "restoring" this hand-made beauty for Easter Sunday, a day I believed so fitting for its re-emergence. On Monday, I tried one brand-name, well-regarded spot remover. No good. On Tuesday, I tried another. Those stains held fast. Finally, on Wednesday, I drew the big bottle of bleach out of the laundry room, poured it into the bathroom sink at about a one-to-three ratio with water, and dunked that one-of-a-kind marvel right into it. I soaked and dipped it, and soon I began to see the stains disappear. I drew the dress out, rinsed it carefully for a very long time, and delighted in the fact that the stains were completely gone! I laid it carefully on the ironing board to dry. On Thursday, it was still wet, and the smell of bleach filled the air. Oh no -- I couldn't have that! I hung it up near the open windows, as the warmth of spring was filling the air in this latter part of the week. I figured I still had enough time to run it through another washing and drying if need be, to get the bleach smell out. But lo and behold -- the Lord whisked the distasteful smell away, just as He had lifted the stains. Here, hanging on the white lattice doors of my Florida room, was a shimmering white dress that was as pure and spotless as it no-doubt was when it first emerged from the needle and thread many decades earlier. Not a single tear does that lovely lace have, not a single place where the delicate lace has pulled apart. And not a single stain it has, now. As pure and spotless as the Lamb resurrected on Easter Sunday.
I know Mother wore this dress often, and she was probably young, perhaps even a teen, when it was sewn. I know Mother dearly loved this dress, because Mother dearly loved things as beautiful as this. I can just imagine how much love goes into making a truly clock-stopping dress like this. For this shoot, I chose a contrast -- the black-stained wood wall of the living room, which barely revealed a hint of grain in deference to this stunning white garment -- and a play of shadow and light, reminiscent of the Psalm-writer's pledge, captured in a lovely contemporary song by Lincoln Brewster: "He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High ... shall abide in the shadow ..." In Him, we are made clean. In Him, we are whole. In Him we are protected. Stay tuned ... the Phoenix will rise ...
Spring Forward
Red floral linen dress, faux pearl rope belt, March 30, 2008
Where it went that afternoon: CVS, Lowe's, grocery store
Click here to see Lois in this dress.
This dress, another rare foray into red for Mother, is the companion piece to ".4711" above. It's a linen maternity dress (second time I've worn it -- har-har) with a zipper up the back, a collar across the front, and wonderfully flared three-quarter-length sleeves. With ".4711," I took a shirtdress approach by actually wearing it backward, zipper and collar opening in front, and slapping that big gold belt onto it. With this red floral one, however, that wasn't going to work. I decided on the faux pearl rope belt that Mother used to wear, which, when tied across the front, reinforced a strangely "monastery" look with this dress (that thick roll of the collar across the front lends a monk-like look, though you can't see it here). In the stemmed glass is red pop, just so ya know (breakfast of champions!). And the plants are all gifts from the funerals last year. The lily on the right, named "Saylor," was from the Saylor family. Incidentally, I did this dress a disservice by pairing it with the absolutely insane red and orange shiny patent '60s sandals a friend got me from a garage sale many years ago. Did anybody actually see this dress at church that morning? I'm thinking no, but there were plenty of comments about those crazy shoes. Sorry, Mother.
The Phoenix
White cotton dress, one day before BRB's 40th birthday, April 6, 2008
Where it went that afternoon: QuikTrip to fuel up and get a drink, then home
The phoenix (from the ancient Greek: Φοίνιξ, phoínix) is a mythical sacred firebird in ancient Phoenician mythology, Wikipedia says. It is the central feature of the seal and flag of the City of Atlanta, along with the word "Resurgens" (Latin for having been restored / rebuilt, revived), symbolizing the seemingly continual rebirth of the city after several devastating fires, most notable of which are General Sherman's burning of the city during the Civil War and the Great Atlanta Fire of 1917. The phoenix is also a prominent part of the flag and seal of the City and County of San Francisco, symbolizing the city rising from the ashes of the devastation caused by the 1906 earthquake. In Jewish folklore, it is said that the phoenix was the only animal not to join Adam in his banishment from the Garden of Eden. For me, though, it truly symbolizes Year 40. My own "rebirth."
This dress, though cotton, is very transparent. I had to double-slip it to wear it to church that morning. Like the dress in "Psalm 91:1," it took some bleach to get a couple stains out. The freshwater-pearl and mother-of-pearl necklaces, along with the rings, are from Mother's collection. The art on the wall down the hall is by Jonathan H., someone I spent a great deal of time with right out of college in Lansing, Michigan. (There's also a purple sketch by Jonathan over my left shoulder in "Brunch with Noritake.")
This simple white cotton dress has meant a lot to me. I wore it as a teen, then stopped wearing it for more than 20 years. But I've always loved its delicacy ... its innocence ... its genuine, honest femininity. I'm happy to be reunited with it, along with, in some ways, that 18-year-old girl again. Remember, Christ makes all things new ...
Grace Kelly in the 'Hood
Navy and ecru paisley linen suit, navy and white spectator pumps, beige gloves, pearl choker, April 13, 2008
Where it went that afternoon: Dunkin Donuts for iced coffee, then Oglethorpe University to see a play
Click here to see Lois in this outfit.
I own a four-bedroom, two-bath house on the east side of Metro Atlanta. In 2006, the house was burglarized three times in six months. That was before, of course, the installation of these lovely burglar bars -- er, I mean ... "security windows." That, and the alarm system and the video camera that records the front of the house and the cul-de-sac. Sigh ... All for a bunch of teenage hoodlums, who were, incidentally, apprehended and prosecuted. And probably released by now. And there's a hundred more just like 'em walking by the house at all hours. Mother never had to worry about teenage hoodlums in her young married years on the farm in rural Ovid, Michigan, when (and where) the vintage photo was taken (see the link above). Ironically, I lived in the City of Detroit for seven years in the '90s without incident. I would regularly hear gunshots outside my window, windshields breaking, stuff like that. I could look down from my 26th floor downtown apartment balcony and see some guy trying the locks on every car parked along the curb. But never once was my home or my car broken into. Never once did I even have anything stolen. Not until I moved to the 'burbs of Hot-lanta.
But I do digress! I love watching Alfred Hitchcock movies, along with the old black-and-white "Alfred Hitchcock Presents" episodes (I've been watching them lately on MSN.com). The reason I love watching that stuff, besides the mastery that was Hitchcock, are the fashions. I see so many familiar outfits on well-heeled actresses such as Grace Kelly. Things Mother used to wear. And Grace Kelly certainly wouldn't have minded this little number one bit. It's light linen, with its quite-fetching ruffles on the half-sleeves and its bow obediently perched on the front. I've kept it with me all my adulthood and have worn it about once a year or so, pretty much always to church, the only place that seemed appropriate for it. Though you can't really see them well here, those spectator pumps are hot-hot-hot. I don't have much to wear them with. I used to have Mother's navy patent leather pumps, all pointy-toed and spiky-heeled and such, but I wore those out, as I did those black tweed pumps. So hot. The handkerchief and beige gloves are Mother's, as well. (Mother had gloves in many colors, for every possible outfit. Fashionable ladies wore gloves and hats back then!) The pearl choker is the one Mother received as a young lady, as young ladies so frequently did when they turned 16 or graduated from high school back in the '50s. She gave the choker to me when I was a teen. This is one of the rare ensembles in the "My Mother's Clothing" project that is 100-percent 1950s Mother.
Life holds so much contrast. Maybe Grace Kelly would have ventured into the 'hood.
Tweedy-Pie
Light wool tweed suit in wedgwood blue, April 20, 2008
Where it went that afternoon: the IKEA store at Atlantic Station
Yes, there's that wedgwood blue again. I always considered this suit the companion piece (doppelganger, perhaps?) to the "Daily Planet" wedgwood suit above, hence a sort of "reverse" photo shoot -- down the cake-tier stairs rather than up. While both of these cool blue suits are wool and a similar shade (this one dusted-out with the speckles of the tweed), this suit is lightweight and boxier to the other's curves. The jacket is lined, though the skirt is not. No tag. Fake pockets. Sweetly covered buttons. I didn't wear this one like I wore the other suit over the years; I guess I just always liked the shape of the other one better (that Lois Lane thing, no doubt). But, because this one was relegated to the garage rafters all those years, I have a new appreciation for it, and it was more than enough retro-metro-chic to carry me through an afternoon at Atlanta's IKEA store after church. Yes, I did change out of those lovely but deadly clear shoes -- a goodbye gift from my galpals at Blue Cross Blue Shield of Michigan in 2002; we used to have a joke amongst ourselves of all the "plastic shoes" worn around the offices in defiance of the corporate dress code. The swan pin is also a gift from those same gals, in reference to my love of Gloria Vanderbilt. The other jewelry belonged to Mother. To the right: a series of prints of photos by Dr. Charles Stanley, accompanied by Scripture verses.
Nancy Drew Gets a Clue
Turquoise ribbed suit, April 27, 2008
Where it went that afternoon: an appreciation dinner for volunteers at In Touch Ministries in Atlanta
Nancy Drew has seen a few makeovers since she was created in 1930. She may have evolved into neat blouses and skirts, and more casual college duds in recent years, but in the days that Mother was reading the ever-popular mystery series, the teen super-sleuth was a sophisticated young lady in smart suits. (She often had matching hats, gloves and handbags as Mother did, too.) And I can certainly picture the young detective of River Heights wearing this simple yet stylish, thickly ribbed turquoise suit as she's meeting with her potential clients at her dad's law office, tailing some seedy suspect down a side street, breaking and entering at the old abandoned house on the edge of town or jimmying the locked drawer of that secret cabinet. This suit is even crafted of a stretchy synthetic fabric for ease of movement as you're falling through a trap door, shimmying under a bed when a suspect enters the room or otherwise getting engaged in some decidedly tight spot. ... Yes, I'm a fan of the series, myself, as evidenced by that complete collection, above, of the original 56 mysteries in the familiar yellow hardcovers of my own youth in the '70s and '80s. I've always been rather partial, however, to No. 7, "The Clue in the Diary," of which I own the 1932 Grosset and Dunlap original blue hardcover with weathered full-color dustjacket, in my hand here. It was Mother's book, and it was brought home from Grandma's house one Sunday in the '70s in much the same way as the sweater dress of the "Zilwaukee" photo.
There's much to admire about the titian-haired teen detective, first created by the Stratemeyer Syndicate and detailed by an array of writers over the decades, all working under the pseudonym of Carolyn Keene. Besides marching to the beat of her own drum (in other words, not allowing herself to be limited by the expectations of others -- and really, how else is she going to get the mystery solved?), she is still kind and respectful to others, highly courageous, intelligent, sensible, tactful, and concerned about the greater good. One of Nancy Drew's chief writers in the early days was Mildred Wirt Benson, a prolific author of children's books and the first woman to graduate with a master's degree in journalism from the University of Iowa. Her career in journalism spanned six decades, and she lived to be nearly 100. Now that's getting a clue.
This suit, by the way, still bears a tag that says "Beeline Fashions of Bensenville, N.C." It's in quite perfect condition, though I've worn the skirt a lot over the years (the jacket was sent to the garage rafters; I didn't like the style of it then, but as with the jacket of "Brunch With Noritake," I absolutely love it now). This seems to skew more '60s than '50s to me, which must be why Diane enthused at church that morning, "It's sooooo Jackie Kennedy!"
Which would, incidentally, be your "clue" for next week's installment ...
Jackie Oh-No!
Skirt set in cream boucle and navy gabardine, spectator pumps, cream gloves, pearl choker, May 4, 2008
Where it went that afternoon: grocery store, Sonic
Mother never cared much for the Kennedys. Though, like any female, she appreciated Jacqueline Kennedy's sense of style, to her that last name symbolized scandal: Marilyn, Chappaquiddick, etc. I, on the other hand, rather adore the Kennedys, particularly my generation's Kennedys: Caroline, John-John, Maria Shriver, even Carolyn Bessette. To me, John Jr. could've ruled the world. He had it all: incredible looks, charm, good sense, political panache. I truly believe he planned to run for the Big Chair because he was making all the right moves: marrying well, keeping his nose clean. I was absolutely beside myself about that plane crash.
I didn't plan it that way for this week's photo shoot, but on Wednesday of last week I found myself standing at the gravesite of JFK and Jacqueline at Arlington National Cemetery while on a working trip to D.C. What a legacy she left, for the purposes of a fashion-oriented project like this! And this ensemble, with its gigantic bow that manages to be in-your-face yet stately, has always reminded me of her. As with the outfit of "Grace Kelly in the 'Hood," this is one I've kept with me and worn consistently throughout my adulthood. I've worn the soft, stretchy skirt so often I've had to sew up its little pinholes. (I'm guessing on that gabardine thing, based on my understanding of the word; it's a synthetic fabric, I know. As with so many others in this collection, this outfit is tagless.) The cream boucle top is just heavenly. The cream gloves are slightly longer this time and gathered up in a couple places. And those fab spectator pumps! (Got to wear 'em again, didn't I?) Add in the pearl choker, and it's basically all vintage Mother again.
Jackie? Oh, no. But I certainly can't be going early '60s without her.
Lily of the Valley
Skirt set in cream and mint green, white straw hat, Mother's Day, May 11, 2008
Where it went that afternoon: Starbucks, then a gem and mineral show in Marietta
In honor of Mother's Day, here's a little number bearing the colors of Mother's favorite flower, the official flower of May. It's an outfit that I wore as a teen but then stuck away in the closet at my parents' house when I went to college. Its silk-lined "jacklet" (my term) has a soft crosshatch effect in its creamy knit. The skirt is of the same material and texture as the navy blue skirt of last week (and of a pink skirt you'll see sometime soon). Mother had another hat exactly like this one that was black; she often purchased clothing in pairs, as with the ".4711" and "Spring Forward" dresses above, and some suits and dresses you'll see in ensuing weeks (wait 'til you see the luscious lime-green and white go-go dress). She did that double-take with my wardrobe, too; often when I was growing up I would have two shirts or pairs of slacks of the same exact style but different colors. The ceramic floral pin is one I purchased from Avon in the '80s, and yes, I wore it on this outfit as a teen, too. The other jewelry is Mother's, and it's sooooo emeralds, also in honor of Mother's Day and her birthday, which was May 1. Ironically, this is a sunny-seeming photo from a rainy morning -- the sun was just beginning to peek out at the end of the shoot.
Grape Expectations
Purple fuzzy wool dress, May 18, 2008
Shot in rural Ovid, Michigan
Where it went that afternoon: Motor City Comic Con in Novi, Michigan
Mother was enthralled with celebrity, collecting oodles and oodles of autographed photos of the stars of her time. Bro and I dug her movie-star scrapbooks out of the garage last year and were quite amazed by how extensive they were. It's no surprise, then, that when I chose to pursue a journalism degree, she envisioned me on the TV nightly news. Sorry, Mother -- print journalism was my choice, not broadcast, in deference to my lifelong love of writing. Still, she had great expectations for me, and I know she took many opportunities to talk about my jobs to family and friends (my apologies), especially when I worked at The Saginaw News, in her old stomping grounds. I have a feeling she would've had quite a lot of fun on this particular day's adventure.
Wool shrinks, you know. If you didn't happen to notice it in the "Daily Planet" photo (for which I just posted vintage shots of Mother in a much looser suit!), you'll certainly see it here. Never a fan of dry-cleaning, I hand-wash anything delicate like this wonderfully fuzzy, loopy purple dress. I don't really know what the original style of the dress was -- I just know it was a heckuva lot larger when I drew it out of the garage rafters last year! My aversion to dry-cleaning caused it to mutate, quite frankly, into something no longer fit for my Southern Baptist church in Georgia. No matter -- I found the perfect alternate usage for this churchless Sunday: my book-signing gig at the Motor City Comic Con in Novi, Michigan. Add in a scarf I purchased on my 1999 trip to Italy, some mile-high shoes my Detroit buddy Spence bought for me several years ago, and a pin of dyed shells from the Sea of Galilee that Mother got on her 1993 trip to the Middle East, and you've got something fun.
This photo, more than any other so far, shows how authentic and raw the My Mother's Clothing project is meant to be. I had absolutely nothing to do with that chicken; it just wandered in (Scott and Brenda inform me that its name is Head Like Red). I'm surprised one of the many cats and kittens that were walking about on this chilly morning didn't get captured, too. And that's Crystal back there in the doghouse, wondering what the heck that crazy chick she doesn't see very often is up to. The camera was on the trunk of my car (didya spot that, in the lower right corner?). That 1981 ivory Mercedes in the background is for sale, by the way; inquire within! ... If I ever were to retouch this photo, I would definitely restore the color of the dress to its true grapey hue. For some reason, both here and inside the Rock Financial Showplace for the comic con that day, it shot quite blue.
So anyway ... here's the silly little girl on the farm where she grew up, the one with her own great expectations. And those expectations, along with everything else, are in the Lord's hands.
Five Feet High and a-Risin'
Brown and orange sleeveless sheath dress, May 25, 2008
Where it went that afternoon: Snellville on an errand
When I was a kid, I spent many a day in the home of my Aunt Charlotte and Uncle Harold in Shields, Michigan, which is basically Saginaw and is not altogether too far from that blessed Zilwaukee. Uncle Harold fashioned the basement of their home into quite the party palace, both for the big people and for the little guys like me and my darling cousin Jimmy. The basement was really funtime headquarters for us whenever I was there, with its shuffleboard, pool table, refrigerator full of thin bottles of soda in various fruity flavors, huge console TV with an Atari set hooked up to it, one of those fab '60s curvy couches curled out in front of the TV, rockin' Queen of Diamonds pinball machine by Gottlieb (see that model here), full bar with smaller TV and sink, authentic one-armed bandit that Uncle Harold snagged from who-knows-where (pre-eBay that was, for sure) ... and a beautiful, bright, gleaming, vintage jukebox. It was fully lit and straight out of the '50s, with the mechanism that rotates the 45 record up into place and into your view while it plays. Just like on "Happy Days."
I don't know the manufacturer, so I can't look up a copy of it online like I can with the pinball machine, but man, that jukebox was a marvelous thing. Jimmy and I had to ask permission before we used it, but when we did, one thing I just had to hear was Johnny Cash's "Five Feet High and Rising" (How high's the water, Mama? Five feet high and a-risin'. How high's the water, Papa? She said it's five feet high and a-risin'). I've always liked that song so much that it's playing on the jukebox in a scene in my third novel "Enie." Also found in that marvelous jukebox were Cash's "A Boy Named Sue," Question Mark and the Mysterians' "96 Tears" and a selection of Elvis Presley. It certainly wasn't modern music to me, but it was just-plain cool.
This is a dress I could picture Mother wearing in that basement in the '60s, hanging with the adults, playing cards or shuffleboard or pool, long before me or cuz' ever came along. The dress is a rayon and cotton blend, woven and textured and meaningful, with a bow in front that really seals the deal. Mother had a few of these sleeveless, straight-down-to-the-knee dresses, and she termed them "sheath dresses." This one still bears the tag for Beeline Fashions. That smoky quartz ring, purchased in the '80s from Best or some other catalog store like it, was one of her favorites. Big and gaudy, like she liked 'em.
These 45s are my own collection -- awash in Blondie, Madonna, the Steve Miller Band, Phil Collins, Air Supply (I bought "The One that You Love," got it home and actually heard Styx's "Too Much Time on My Hands" -- nowadays, I figure I got the better choice). This is my generation's music, rather than the older hits of that jukebox. It's painful but ironic, but that amazing party basement was actually destroyed in Saginaw's great rainstorm flood of the mid-'80s. Aunt Charlotte, Uncle Harold and Jimmy stayed with us during that traumatic time. The water's depth in their basement was actually enough to flip over the pool table.
About five feet, they say.
Shimmer
White shift dress, white strappy sling sandals, June 1, 2008
Where it went that afternoon: QuikTrip, then home for lunch and "Manchurian Candidate" DVD with friends
Here's a dress I know absolutely nothing about and have no recollection of, before pulling it out of the boxes from the garage rafters last year. It was clear that it's been worn, though I don't know when or where. (And I must say that I realized, as I was looking through the old scrapbooks in Michigan a couple weeks ago, the sheer volume of Mother's clothing. Out of the many, many photos taken of her as a teen and young lady, actually only a few of those outfits are in my possession right now. There's a ton of other stuff she's wearing in those photos that never made it to the attic!) Anyway, this dress is in perfect condition and is still a glistening white. It may be simple in cut, but the detailed texture of the material really makes the dress. You can't see it here in my vamping for form (but clicking to see the larger view will help): the material itself has a diagonal cut of finely stitched lines, emblazoned with roses. The collar has delicate lace droplets on its lower edge. It seems like cotton but has a sturdy, almost canvasy feel. The strappy sandals are a pair I wore a lot as a teen. They're marked "Exquisite Fashions Styled for Lincoln Road." They're lovely -- and excruciatingly painful on the toes.
June Cleaver Knows Best
Cotton print dress, white patent leather pumps, pearl choker, handkerchief, June 8, 2008
Where it went that afternoon: World of Coke in downtown Atlanta
Click here to see Lois in (what might be!) this dress.
Pearls 'n' pumps in the kitchen ... Who else could it be but classic TV icon June Cleaver, and where else could we be but the fabulous '50 once again ... Another garage-rafter refugee, this dress looks suspiciously like the one Mother was photographed wearing on a trip to Tijuana with Daddy in the '60s, but I can't be sure. It's light and summery and rather sheer in its cottony material. It's also flowing and free enough to chase that rascally Beav away from the cookie-batter bowl. No tags to recommend it (gee, Wally, how'd you guess that?) and just a short silk lining underneath the top part of the bodice, near the neckline. It's not a color assortment I would typically choose, but it's a treasure nonetheless. And the handkerchief in my hair is from a box of 'em Mother had; it bears a delicately crocheted edging in pale yellow. That stainless steel mixing bowl, by the way, is part of a three-piece set that I believe (help me here, Bro) was part of Mother's original cookware set. I also have the pale pink hand mixer that was evidently one of her 1959 wedding gifts. Bro still uses the old green-and-white Eureka vacuum cleaner that she received for her wedding. Still tickin' after all these years. Some minor thing needed to be changed out or fixed on it recently, and he was joking about contacting Eureka and complaining about their product not working! Perhaps he should wait until next year -- the product's 50th birthday!!!!
Congratulations, Kitty,
With Much Love, Lois
Tan suit, June 15, 2008
(Click on the photo to get the closer-up view and catch a glimpse of Lois' wedding pictures on the hutch.)
Where it went that afternoon: grocery store, then home to relax for the afternoon
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Mother often signed greeting cards "With love" before her name. Sometimes, though, she would sign "With much love." It's that latter signature I reserve for this special week of the My Mother's Clothing project ...
On February 28, 2007, the day that my dad died of an apparent second stroke, Mother was hospitalized. She had been sick for a while, but it wasn't known what was causing her illness. She spent some time at McLaren Hospital in Flint before it was determined that she had to be admitted to hospice. She had an aggressive lung cancer, freshly diagnosed but by now spread all through her bones, and there was no medical measure that could stop it. The doctor said it was possible the cancer was only a few months old. But extremely fearsome and tenacious, it was.
She was admitted to a hospice program in rural mid-Michigan for just a few days before she died. A big regret of hers, in those last days at McLaren and at the hospice, was that she and Daddy would not be able to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary. She had planned to have a party, she said at McLaren, as my sister-in-law Eufemia and I stood at her bedside. We'd been talking about options, in the wake of the news for her that Daddy had died. She was still coherent at that point, hanging onto details (Mother was always about the details), as the ever-increasing morphine had not settled in that thickly just yet. We were talking about where she might live. We were talking over hopeful options, options patterned from the idea of the Lord comin' stompin' into the hospital room at any second with one of His patented miracles in hand. But that particular miracle was not part of His plan.
It was 48 years of marriage that He ordained for my parents, all in all. But that is quite an accomplishment, indeed.
Now, one year later, Mother's close friend Kitty celebrates 50 years of marriage with her husband, Bud. Their children held a party in their honor this past Friday. When Kitty and Mother were young, they shared lots of things. They each had two little sons close in age when they first met, in the early '60s at Redeemer Lutheran Church in Owosso, Michigan. A few years after they met, they each had daughters, one year apart. By the time Kitty had another daughter a few years later, Mother had decided that three kids was enough! Still, the lives of these two females worked in parallel fashion in many ways. Their husbands both worked at Midland-Ross in Owosso. They were all friends, living in the same rural area of Michigan, attending the same church, going out to breakfast together afterward every Sunday, spending endless hours playing cards on the weekends and hanging out. Kitty (one of my dearest friends, as well) has told me that in my mother she found a nonjudgmental listening ear all those years, something she appreciated very much.
I truly regret that Mother was not here to share in Kitty and Bud's 50th wedding anniversary, but I hope to represent her, in some way. I wear this particular fashion -- a tasteful tan suit in a nylon / acetate blend, circa late '60s, ribbed, three-quarter-length sleeves and goldtone buttons (!) -- for no other reason than that it is the only thing in the My Mother's Clothing collection that seems "golden," to fit two golden anniversaries, one achieved, another that would have been. I found it, still bearing price tags, among the items in the garage rafters last year. Perhaps the fact that it was never actually worn by Mother, but still chosen by her, is significant for this occasion.
I cannot fathom the strength, patience, wisdom, endurance, love and true grit it takes to remain married to the same person for 50 years! I do know that, unfortunately, my own generation does not value it nearly as much as my mother's generation does. Mother and Daddy, Kitty and Bud, and Kitty's sister Margaret and her husband Larry, all had that same staying power, that same determination, that same adherence to God and values. They groomed 'em that way, in the '40s and '50s. Marriage was a lifelong thing that society more heartily supported, not a passing fancy as it is now. When you made a promise back then, you kept it.
What I have learned is that marriage is like "boot camp" for emotional issues. Marriage is a true test of endurance, because whatever stuff you have going on before you get married is amplified 10 times afterward, once you have someone there to react to it, to hold up a mirror to you. I believe God uses marriage to teach us more about ourselves than we would have otherwise learned, to help us grow and become better people. For many, it is truly a blessing, as God meant it to be.
Whatever books I write, whatever the college degree or career position, whatever worldly "achievements" I think I've attained of which I believe Mother would have been proud (consider this message an important continuation of "Grape Expectations" above) ... it's all a grand illusion. I know that God is smiling and patient with me. And perhaps shaking His head. Because I realize that Mother actually achieved something far greater. She followed it through to the end, in sickness and in health (duty-bound and even forgetting her own needs after Daddy's first stroke in 2005), through richer or poorer. And for that, and for her sake, I am eternally thankful. And I raise my glass -- which, shown here, is one of her own 1959 wedding gifts -- to her and to Kitty.
Brocade
Satin brocade dress and bolero jacket, nylon gloves, handkerchief, June 22, 2008
Where it went that afternoon: nowhere -- a change of clothes was in order for a movie at Perimeter Mall
This is one that photographs much better than its actual condition. This rich satin brocade dress, a tank style with filmy big bow and matching bolero jacket, has been worn a whole lot. It's got some fraying at the hem and a few stains and spots. It's certainly a party dress, though this particular morning its retro chic was no more formal than seeing award-winning performing artist CeCe Winans sing at my church. The pale periwinkle blue gloves still have their tiny tag inside indicating 100 percent nylon. The blue embroidered handkerchief with lace edging looks never used, so set in its folds with a little foil label, still, marking it cotton and made in Switzerland. The shoes were one of the four pair my friend Spence Beamon, a Detroit musician, bought for the photo shoot for his album (see the Other Work page at BillieRae.com). And the ankle bracelets? My friend Lauren's husband is from India, and they visit his family every year. One year she snagged these for me, sterling silver and just a cool 10 bucks for the pair. And they jingle-jangle when you walk. Somehow, it all works.
True Blue
Boucle vest suit, June 29, 2008
Where it went that afternoon: straight to BRB's office to write up the website coverage of Newt Gingrich's appearance at the church that morning
Click here to see Lois in this outfit.
Each one of these photo shoots begins with a picture in my head. It may be a picture that formed gradually throughout the preceding week; it may be a picture from months earlier. Unfortunately, what comes out of the camera that Sunday morning is almost never the picture. It's something else entirely, past a lot of tweaks and improv.
I've learned that self-photography, though fun, is no walk in the park, especially the strictly amateur variety I'm practicing with this project. There's no one there to tell you to adjust your cuff, move your elbow to the left, straighten your hem, lift your chin or whatever else needs to be done so that the shot isn't marred by some distracting element. There's also a lot of running back and forth from camera to position. Challenges arise, as with "Grace Kelly in the 'Hood," when I was stepping on soft, squishy ground in heels and dodging thorns that were quite determined to grab me, or "June Cleaver Knows Best," when I heard that disheartening rip as I was hopping down off the chair in those spiky heels. I've found also, in the past six months, that there are shoots that are simply not happening and are barely helped by total location changes and new approaches. Then there are the shoots that do work, like this one.
This is the first shoot that required less than 10 photos to get the right one. The way the light was falling was a pleasant surprise, as I had merely set out to try a new location and had no idea what I was going to get. The suit is a nice and fuzzy boucle, well-worn, with big pearly buttons that have all been sewn back on. The straight skirt stops just above the knee. You can see where the tag was cut off the vest lining; it must have scratched her back. I love the color; with all the various shades of blue in Mother's clothing collection, this one is an honest-to-goodness, robust, Superman-like cobalt blue. A good strong primary color. A "true blue," if you will.
It's been a jolly nice time, I can say right now, halfway through the My Mother's Clothing project, and those silly challenges I mentioned certainly have only been healthy ones.
*** End of Part 1 ***
Click here to continue on to Part 2 of My Mother's Clothing,
July - December 2008
* * *
The official press release of My Mother's Clothing
Press release of My Mother's Clothing at WEYI, NBC Channel 25 in Clio, Michigan
My Mother's Clothing covered at The Detroit News' MichMoms Blog
* * *
Check back each Monday afternoon during 2008
for the latest photo in My Mother's Clothing!
More vintage photos will be added as the
My Mother's Clothing project progresses.
New feature just added for each week:
"Where it went that afternoon,"
offering a glimpse of the NEW life of these OLD clothes!
Ever wonder what the OTHER photos of the project look like?
You know, the ones that didn't make the site?
You can get a glimpse of the "cutting-room floor"
of the My Mother's Clothing project at
Billie Rae's author profile page on Facebook!
Learn a little more about BRB's mother Lois at the
Mother's Treasures website