Childhood memories: Clothing
As you know by now, I was born in the mid 1960s.
Handiworks were quite common, and so - due to my grandmother's knitting skills, I often wore knitted... thingies. You've already seen a kind of romper suit, and she knitted a lot of pullovers, cardigans and even dresses for me.
I can still remind some of the yarn my Granny used. A blue-and-red mélange cardigan with spherical red buttons. A skirt-and-cardigan ensemble from a light pink and violet mélange. The dress above was knitted from black wool, combined with very bright colors.
I never ever liked dirndl dresses. This one was dark blue with a pink apron (although the photo might suggest other colours). I was quite unhappy when this photo was taken.
Checkered pants seem to have been all the rage in the early 1970s. Yikes!
And I remember a kind of bib skirt made of red patent leather, combined with an apple green sweater. Oh my God! It was not an act of bad faith that one day, a chewing gum became entangled between the bib and the sweater, thus making at least the sweater unwearable...
Later, in my teens, I wore (as many of my classmates) the nonconformist uniform: Tight jeans (bleached, if possible), Dad's discarded shirts and sweaters, and a parka without any national emblem...
(fashionable, hun?)
I inherited my grandmother's passion for knitting. But I must say, that noone in my family wears any of my knitted pieces - ahem, not even me. I knit, and I tear it up again. I hoard yarns, though. Knitting has a kind of meditative aspect. You have to sit still, and concentrate on the pattern (if it's more difficult than knit and purl, anyway). And you might say that your senses sharpen, because you can hear a lot of things which otherwise would escape your attention. I love those moments, when it's very quiet in the house and I can hear the wind outside, the cat purring beside my leg, and my son singing in his room upstairs...
Handiworks were quite common, and so - due to my grandmother's knitting skills, I often wore knitted... thingies. You've already seen a kind of romper suit, and she knitted a lot of pullovers, cardigans and even dresses for me.
I can still remind some of the yarn my Granny used. A blue-and-red mélange cardigan with spherical red buttons. A skirt-and-cardigan ensemble from a light pink and violet mélange. The dress above was knitted from black wool, combined with very bright colors.
I never ever liked dirndl dresses. This one was dark blue with a pink apron (although the photo might suggest other colours). I was quite unhappy when this photo was taken.
Checkered pants seem to have been all the rage in the early 1970s. Yikes!
And I remember a kind of bib skirt made of red patent leather, combined with an apple green sweater. Oh my God! It was not an act of bad faith that one day, a chewing gum became entangled between the bib and the sweater, thus making at least the sweater unwearable...
You know what? Just have a look at the photo in the last post concerning gardening: This is the red bib skirt. And actually, it is the blue-and-red cardigan with the red buttons!
As I grew fast, I outgrew jeans at an extent that really bothered my Mum. To make the best of it, she sew an edging to the hemline. I outgrew that, too, so she considered adding another piece of jeans fabric... which I found rather embarrassing, but, hey, better than to wear your trousers at halfmast!
Later, in my teens, I wore (as many of my classmates) the nonconformist uniform: Tight jeans (bleached, if possible), Dad's discarded shirts and sweaters, and a parka without any national emblem...
(fashionable, hun?)
I inherited my grandmother's passion for knitting. But I must say, that noone in my family wears any of my knitted pieces - ahem, not even me. I knit, and I tear it up again. I hoard yarns, though. Knitting has a kind of meditative aspect. You have to sit still, and concentrate on the pattern (if it's more difficult than knit and purl, anyway). And you might say that your senses sharpen, because you can hear a lot of things which otherwise would escape your attention. I love those moments, when it's very quiet in the house and I can hear the wind outside, the cat purring beside my leg, and my son singing in his room upstairs...
Labels: Childhood memories
posted by Claudia at 00:36
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home