Fashioned From the Past: A Present

Hidden deep in an unexplored closet was a fashion relic from another era. It had been patiently waiting for me more than seventy years but it took an unexpected event to find it. We were invited to Swing Time, a 1940’s Hanger Party at the Scottsdale Airport in celebration of Veterans Day and to raise funds for the Thunderbird Field II Veterans Memorial and Dream Catchers. During World War II, the airfield had played a crucial role as the Army Air Corp training site for the Stearman PT-17 aircraft. Over 5,500 men were trained there for assignments in Europe and the Pacific. For the event, one of the hangers would be transformed into a 40’s era venue complete with a big band, military air craft and other war memorabilia. “Come dressed in 40’s attire,” the invitation read.

It was going to be a festive evening, but what was I going to wear? Perhaps a local consignment store would carry World War II period clothing. Then I remembered one of my mother’s old dresses that we had found when we sold the family home. It had been carefully folded and stored in the antique wardrobe in our childhood bedroom. Strange that I never recalled seeing it as a child and even more surprising was that my sister and I had not discovered it. What an ideal dress-up frock! How could our curious eyes have missed that beauty?

Thinking back to that wardrobe, I realized that it was more than a storage unit. It had been a treasure trove of my mother’s early life. There were the multicolored layers of family quilts made by my grandmother and members of her sewing circle. Then there was another layer with mom’s diaries and scrapbooks cloistered between worn blankets and baby clothes that my sister and I had long outgrown. It was hard to believe that everything was so well-preserved, but those baby clothes which had been much too big for our dolls, protected those precious artifacts from her inquisitive daughters. Fortunately that old wardrobe that smelled of moth balls and dank woolen blankets had safely guarded our family’s treasures and memories for decades.

But where was that dress? Could it be stored at my sister’s house or was it still in Arizona? We had donated much of mom’s period clothing to the local college drama department so I was skeptical it still existed. The only place it might be was in my guest room in the large walk-in closet. With trembling hands, I began searching among the mishmash of unmarked crates, boxes, and hangers. Almost ready to admit defeat, I felt something pressed against the back wall on a broken hanger. Could that be it? When the wrinkled soft fabric emerged into the daylight, I saw a stylish dress, “a knock-out” as my mother would say. Made of a light crepe fabric, the bodice was a striking black and white geometric pattern with lightly padded shoulders. The waist was fitted with a slight peplum that flowed over the solid black crepe skirt, and the hem sported a 3-inch band of the same geometric pattern as the bodice. Wow! What a dress!
Holding it up, I had so many questions about this stunning remnant of my mother’s past. Why had she kept this dress? Was it a gift and what memories did it hold? Did she ever take it out and think about her past life? But there was an even bigger question. Would this size 10 fit my size 4 petite frame? It looked much too big.

Carefully I unzipped the side zipper and started pulling it over my head. At first I thought it would swallow me, but as I settled into it, it didn’t seem that large. Immediately I went to the mirror and was shocked by what I saw. Like Cinderella’s glass slipper, it fit me perfectly. The proportions were just right and it hugged my waist like it had been custom made just for me. Smiling, I knew this was the ideal outfit for the upcoming event.

Staring into that mirror again, I saw a startling double image. First there was Virginia Vassey, my mother as a 24 year old young teacher wearing this dress on a date with her future husband, Rol Jett. The second image was of me, her 71-year-old daughter wearing her favorite black and white dress. Tears streamed down my face as I felt an uncanny connection to my mother and sensed her presence. She was smiling at me, sporting her classy outfit.

I proudly wore that dress to the Veterans Day celebration and what a fun evening we had. We talked with World War II veterans, saw their restored military aircraft and danced to the familiar tunes of Glen Miller, Duke Ellington and Benny Goodman. As the band played their final number, Sentimental Journey by the Les Brown Orchestra, I thought of my pretty young mother dancing in that dress seventy- years ago while listening to these words.

Gonna take a sentimental journey
Gonna set my heart at ease
Gonna take a sentimental journey
To renew old memories

Never thought my heart could be so yearny
Why did I decide to roam?
Gonna take a sentimental journey
Sentimental journey home
Sentimental journey

Mom, thank you for saving this beautiful dress and the sentimental journey it has given me.