I have some cherished stories from the times that my Mom took vacations to go back east to visit family leaving my father and I home to fend for ourselves. One time while she was gone it was my job to cook for dad when he got home from work. I enjoyed it and it seemed that those times brought us closer. One day I really went all out and I baked my very first apple pie. I had watched Mom make hundreds of them so I did exactly what she did. I made the pie crust, rolled it with a rolling pin, put it in the pie tin, put in the apples I had picked and sliced, put the crust over the top and slit it, and then trimmed the edge of the crust with a fork to give it that great look. Then into the oven and boy did that smell good and even better was that it was finished cooking right about the time we were done with dinner. I was so excited seeing it was my first one and I said, “Hey Dad, I have a big surprise.” He said, “I have been smelling it since I came into the kitchen and boy I can’t wait. Let’s take a look shall we?” With a great amount of pride I grabbed a pot holder and put the pie in front of dad and asked him to cut us a couple of pieces. He got up and grabbed a big knife and went over to cut the pie while I grabbed a couple of small plates and some vanilla ice-cream which he loved on his pie.
I watched as he began to cut the crust but all I heard as the knife hit the crust was, “Thunk!” Then again he tried…. Thunk! I asked, “Geeze Dad, what’s wrong? Is that knife that dull?” And he asked me, “Let me ask you a question… What all did you use in your crust recipe?” So I told him that I used flour and some water and how I rolled it and so on. Then he asked, “How much Crisco did you use?” To which I replied, “Cisco? What do you mean… are you supposed to put Crisco in the crust?” Then dad began laughing as he told me I had baked a cement pie and I was all bummed out. Then he started with the one liners like, “Well, I suppose we could take it to the mill and get a cutting torch and cut a piece… Or maybe we could try a hacksaw. On second thought, we may need to use a stick or two of blasting powder.” Finally, we laughed so hard that he was able to break a piece of the crust off and we scrapped out the apples and Dad said, “I can’t say much about your apple pie , but that’s some of the best damn applesauce I’ve ever had.”
I favored one dress—an electric-blue sateen-spandex thing—that was cut down to here and up to there. It threatened to expose my left breast every time I reached for the bass notes. Read More
There was a time when I unleashed my creativity and started making stuff cause what I wanted to wear was not available in stores. It caused me to dabble in all sorts of crafts. For starters there was leatherwork.There’s a certain confidence gained when you make your own shoes. Just get some materials, trace your foot and voila.
Wore these with a patchwork dress I made. Granny glasses and love beads completed the look.
One of my first jobs after high school was working in the Green Giant asparagus cannery. Good experience for me, learning what it was like to work 12 hour shifts, learned to order breakfast in Spanish, gained admiration for what hard workers the Mexican contract workers were. Cesar Chavez had been working for improved migrant farm workers conditions so when it rained we all got a day off. For entertainment we would hitchhike to the next town 30 miles over to go to the movies.
In the off hours one of my co-workers taught me the magic principle of sewing 2 lengths of fabric onto one increasing length and flounciness of subsequent layers. I wore my 3 tiered black calico skirt quite comfortably with my hippie peasant blouse. Another co-worker showed me the magic of transmuting an extra large classic men’s tshirt into a comfy and feminine top. Cut out the neckband and in the scoop shape that’s left run an elastic or a ribbon through the casing made by the hem for a gathered neckline. Carefully take off the pocket if there is one. Also slightly adjust the angle of the sleeve and run a ribbon or elastic through the hem casing creating a bit of a puffed cap sleeve. We were upcycling before it was cool. Huraches completed the ensemble.
There is one look that I probably wouldn’t bring back. Wearing Osh Kosh overalls was a thing for a while. When I was feeling militant or lazy I didn’t care that that in their bagginess they weren’t too flattering. We would cut them off into short shorts or modify them into dresses. At least it was easier to use the bathroom with the dress.
Thinking back to one of my earliest endeavors I embroidered some simple vines and flowers around the ankle hem of my jeans. I didn’t know how to use embroidery hoops or thimbles and just winged it even though it made my fingers sore and took forever. They turned out well enough that a couple of girls hired me to do it to their jeans. I think I collected the princely sum of $3 each pair.
When dashikis were popular I bought some India print bedspreads to cut up in order to make shirts and skirts. I may still have the maxi wrap skirt in storage somewhere. I think I wore it with my Danskin leotard.
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