Bodice-ripper

Today

Last night my poor rotator cuff was complaining and felt very cold. The night was mild - not a nightie-wearing night, but I made a hotwater bottle and hugged it to my shoulder to try to warm it up. 

"I remember that Mamma used to have a bed jacket to keep her shoulders warm," I remarked to Paul

In My Day

Mamma did indeed have a bed jacket, to be worn when sitting up in bed to keep the shoulders warm. They seemed to come either in pink or blue and were fluffy & frilly.

Thinking about this I realised that there are a number of clothing items that were commonplace when I was a child that are never seen today, or only rarely or for recreational purposes.

Boned corsets, normal wear in the '50's, are mainly used for recreational purposes these days, (athough I suspect that quite a few stars on the red carpet are boned into place) and the main remnant in everyday use is in bra underwiring. Their place has been mainly superseded by Spandex.

We females almost always all wore dresses or skirts in those days and not to wear a petticoat was rather vulgar. They were either full-length or waist "slips". They were made in silk or nylon or cotton and were de rigeur. Of course you can buy them today in M&S and many women will have one tucked away to wear with some dress that is see-through or sticks to their tights, but that's a far cry from the everyday lace-trimmed range that would have been a substantial part of every woman's wardrobe.

My father used to wear shirts that had detachable collars. The collars were changed daily, starched to death and held onto the shirt with collar studs, which could be found anywhere in the house. Pictures of working men from the time often show them with shirts without collars; presumably they only added collars for high days and holidays.

As children we wore the Liberty Bodice (mentioned in my blog dated May 9 2009) which certainly kept out the cold, while restricting movement. Did I wear it while attempting to do sports and gym? No wonder I wasn't very good at it! It had suspenders which attached to very scratchy stockings.

Then there were pinafores - we didn't wear them very much as children but they still existed; their function being to save the dress underneath from dirt. The pinafore would be made in a lightweight fabric that could wash and dry easily.

Hats! In the '50s everybody wore hats. Not beanies or baseball caps, but proper hats. My father always wore either a Trilby or a flat cap (for high days and holidays) and Mamma wore a hat on all formal occasions. I remember her mortification when I went to church bare-headed. Daddy would raise his hat to a lady (where did that little piece of manners come from?) and Mamma commented in one of her diaries the pleasure of looking at all the hats on the delegates to the Townswomen's Guild AGM at the Albert Hall. 

Of course this is balanced by clothes that we wear today that were unknown 60 years ago. Trainers, Birkenstocks and flip-flops, Spandex, baseball caps, fleeces, jogging bottoms, anoraks, T-shirts and the rise of jersey fabrics and stretch denim. 

And who's to say whether we are better or worse for that?

Cententarian

Today

Last Sunday my siblings and I celebrated the date of my mother's 100th birthday. We flossied ourselves up and went along to the Homewood Park Hotel & Restaurant and spent a happy few hours with champagne, food. reminiscences and friendly chat. I wore Mamma's favourite silver violet necklace, David brought a tablecloth that Mamma had embroidered and persuaded the waiting staff to put it on the table, and Beatrice read from Mamma's diary.

It didn't resemble much the birthday parties Mamma used to give but we felt it was important to mark the occasion.

In My Day

Mamma, as has been said elsewhere, loved to party. This is a description of her last birthday party in 1981. By this time Mamma was very ill with lung cancer and had been receiving chemotherapy at the hospital in Dorking. As her birthday approached I called the hospital and asked if we could take Mamma out for a day in order to celebrate.. The hospital ummed and ahhed and said they'd have to ask higher authorities. 

I conferred with my siblings. "Don't tell Mamma what we're planning just yet", I said "It'll be so much better when the whole arrangements are made." So I didn't write to Mamma as I usually would, waiting to tell her the good news and I believe that my siblings kept quiet too.

One morning a letter from Mamma dropped on my doormat. "I always said that I didn't want to be a burden on my children," she wrote "but I never thought that I'd be eating my words." Mamma, not having heard from us, thought she had been abandoned to die alone. I called the hospital. "Look, " I said forcefully "you're not going to be able to cure her. Anyway the best medicine right now would be to see her family." They agreed that we could borrow a wheelchair for the afternoon and all was set. I wrote to Mamma, explaining my silence and told her the plan.

On her 68th birthday we gathered at the house in Dorking. All the siblings with their children were there. I found a half cake in the freezer and dolled it up with frills and candles. Chris and Paul went to collect Mamma and she sat facing the window overlooking the garden and pond at Ribblesdale and opened her cards and presents. I can't remember a great deal more about the event, although I do remember Mamma commenting on demure and patient 4-year old Becky waiting to see the gifts opened.

Mamma died a couple of weeks later and was certainly not abandoned to die alone, I am very glad that we were able to show her our love and care in that way, and I'm also glad that we felt that her part in our lives was important enough for last Sunday's celebration.

What I do hope is that I will be able to go in person to my own 100th birthday.