In the late 50s, crinolins had waned from their apex as a fashion accessory. For those unfamiliar, a crinolin was a stiff, scratchy petticoat that made your skirt or dress stand out like a ballerina's tutu.
Thankfully, crinolins and I passed, almost like ships in the night. They were on their way out just as I was on my way in. As you can see from the photo at left, I was probably all of a year old. But I could still stand, by gum, so I wore a dress and crunchy crinolins.
Here I am, still pre-kindergarten, in a dress that was probably hand-smocked by either my mother or grandmother. And I'm sure I'm wearing at least two crinolins. I often wore 3 or 4 or as many as I could find. I loved the way they looked - like a ballerina, but I hated the way they felt (scratchy!) and sounded (noisy!) so I was happy to give them up and switch to plain ol' petticoats.
It was my first experience with Ladies' Undergarments as torture devices... but it sure wasn't my last.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Crinolins: The Great Divide
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
I can honestly say I was not aware of this form of fashion, and I am grateful. I was born and raised as a guy. I promise I can to this day prove the fact by my lack of direction, style and grace.
I am proud to be me and am grateful that I can use my status as a guy to blame my blundering to my birthright as a male.
Us fellas are not stupid, we just are not...never mind.
Well, I'm sure I speak for half the planet when I say, "thanks for clearing that up."
Post a Comment