Outfitting for life

The carpenters have adjusted the last few rods in the closet.  A few more coats of paint on the shoe cubby and the closet will be done.  So tonight, I purged my clothing.

Hidden amongst the plentiful Ann Taylor shirts and Goodwill finds, was the jacket that Sassie, my paternal grandmother, aka the Princess of Darkness, was married in.

It is brown velvet with an ermine trim.  Her grandfather bought the suit and had it custom tailored at Bergdorf Goodman.  Sassie was married in City Hall in New York City.

I have a plenitude of Sassie's clothing.... I have cashmere twin sets and tailored silk sheaths.  I have cocktail dresses made in Hong Kong and an ensemble of woven straw from Florence.

Sassie lived large.  Maybe that was her problem... a spoiled young rich woman from the vast Texas oil country... maybe she assumed that my grandfather was landed Virginia gentry, he a small town commonwealth attorney.

No matter.  Though his pay might have been paltry, Sassie's mother had money, money to lavish upon the child she had abandoned.  She had, of course, abandoned all of her children, but in her old age, only Sassie survived.  Natalie.  She had run away with the horse trainer.  Sassie, known then as Sally, was shipped to a private New England boarding school.

She grew up mean.  She hated the world and threw money at it hoping that it would turn her way.

I have no clothing of Gran's... nothing to don and remember her by except a gold charm bracelet, given to me on my 18th birthday.  She dressed beautifully through the decades but never thought to save her clothing.  When Sassie died, as we delved among her things, I discovered a cache of gold charms and added them to my bracelet.

Both of my grandmothers were stylish.  One had money to indulge her wishes, the other was probably outfitted in debt.

It is an unusually warm November day.  It is the day before I am to be married.  The air is crisp but the sun is warm.  We, my bridal party and family, sit in a sunlit room at the country club.  I have worn a brown suit with an autumnal silk scarf.  Gran comments upon its beauty; Sassie criticizes its quality.

I chose very carefully for Gran's service.  I wore a Max Mara dress made of jersey with crepe sleeves and bodice.  I wore Gran's pearls, the ones Grandaddy gave her on their wedding day.

I cannot remember what I wore to Sassie's service.

Yet I remember Sassie every time I wear that fantastic straw dress from Florence or that simple silk sheath from Hong Kong.  Gran gave me unconditional love; Sassie gave me what she could.

I appreciate both.