Red Gingham Magic
It was April of 1972, and the school was having an old-fashioned barn dance to raise money for the band program. I found the dress in my sister’s closet, forgotten behind prettier dresses. It was perfect.
We went outside the barn to be alone, and it was under the old oak tree that he told me he loved me.
Buy the dress:
My friend Kathy was breathless: “It’s The Rolling Stones! They’re coming to town.”
“What?” I shrieked. Mick Jagger in person. I was estatic.
It was 1973 and I saved all of my paycheck for 3 weeks to buy the perfect dress. I found it at Miller’s Department Store and thought it was the loveliest dress I had ever seen. Gunne Sax by Jessica brand. I had never heard of it, but it was beautiful with a lace-up velvet bodice in burgandy and a tiered skirt in calico with lace. Perfect.
The stage guards were in full force, but Mick Jagger walked to the center of the stage and I impulsively ran from my 15th row, floor seat straight at him, between the stage guards. They weren’t quick enough! Jagger leaned down and kissed me quickly and said, “Nice dress.”
I would have died happy that night!
You can buy the dress at my Etsy shop, Victorian Wardrobe:
I wore my plain black wool skirt to Sunday meeting. Sadly, it matched every other young woman’s skirt there. But I had a secret. Underneath, I was wearing the finest red petticoat I could sew out of red taffeta, red satin, and red net. Multi layered and tiered and so pretty I was tempted to wear it as my skirt. What a scandal that would have been!
When I walk, it talks and moves and sashays with my every movement.
It was July in 1944, and I had taken the 3:00 train to Chattanooga. I had just left my boyfriend at the Harriman station. He was being shipped to the South Pacific for the war, and I couldn’t stop crying. My brown print dress was feeling damp from the humidity, and I was on my second handkerchief to mop the tears and the sweat. The train stopped in Spring City, and I decided to get out and see if I could find a cool spot for the 15 minute stop. He was leaning against the ticket window with a big smile on his boyish face.
“What are you doing here?” I managed to squeak out, and before I knew it, he was down on 1 knee, holding out a purple ring box.
“Will you marry me? It’s not much of a ring,” he said.
It was everything. And there I was in the limp, brown print dress.
YOU can buy the dress on Etsy: