Really? I had to have that?

 Carolyn J. Rose

 

The great closet cleanout of 2020 left me with much more space and a smaller wardrobe of clothing I wear on a regular basis. It was easy and fairly painless to toss faded, sagging, or pilled items. It was harder to toss the things I’d moved to the far side of the rack while telling myself they might fit next year or I might find something they’d go with.

 

Bidding those articles farewell led me down memory lane to recollections of the clothing I “had to have” during my teen years and later. If you’re bold enough, or have an adult beverage in hand, return with me now to the closets and drawers of yesteryear.

 

Kilt skirts with large safety pins to hold them closed. Mine was a red plaid and I wore it with knee socks. Not being in possession of a flat stomach this was less of a “look” and more of a “look away.”

 

Wrap around skirts. Mine was a green and gray herringbone pattern with leather-topped pockets. Since I have a water glass figure, the overlap in the back fell short of common decency. Especially when the wind blew. Many small safety pins were required to avoid having to file an environmental impact statement.

 

Oxford-cloth shirts with button-down collars. They were about five bucks each in the mid 60s. It took my entire weekly allowance to buy one, but I ponied up for several. It was nearly impossible to iron out the wrinkles in the days when clothing dried on the line. In the winter, I ironed only the collar, cuffs, and a narrow strip on either side of the front placket. I covered the rest with a sweater.

 

Mohair sweaters. Warm and fuzzy. Sounds like a good combination. But carry along a roll of tape or a lint remover because those little hairs will stick to sofa cushions, theater seats, and the jacket of the boy you told your friends you’d never go out with unless he was the last male on earth.

 

Hush puppies. These look great for a few weeks, but they soon reach the point where no amount of brushing will bring the nap back to life.

 

Saddle shoes. Right out of the box these were a study in contrast. But the white sections were magnets for dirt, grass stains, marks left by the metal legs of chairs in high school classrooms, and other substances. White shoe polish dulled the shine and rubbed off. In a few weeks, the thrill was gone.

 

And don’t get me started on those little neck scarves with the ring to hold them in place, or the triangular head scarves my grandmother fashioned from fabric left over from the dresses she made for me through my junior year in college. And don’t let me go on about dickies, but do tell me about what you “had to have” back in the day, or even last week.