I think this is a crossover between the choices.
Once I started thinking about cloth and garments from my child hood I was surprised at how sketchythe actual details where but how strong the overall images are, which almost seems a contradiction.
The first garment that popped into my mind was a yellow jacket. I just remember really enjoying this jacket. I reckon I was about 5years old.The feel of the fabric was amazing, quite difficult to describe….it was very smooth, and I seem to remember stiff…but not unpleasantly so, it had 2 patch pockets on the front, a collar and biggish buttons.
Then a red towelling dressing gown gave me a big nudge. I really only remember it on one big occasion. I was about 2 years old and had split my head open. I was taken to hospital in a neighbours car. The dressing gown had a duck on the pocket…which I remember was rather bloody on the journey back home…which was sort of upsetting, but the fact I was having another ride in a car and an ice cream, actually made the whole episode quite special. I’m sure the duck recovered as well!
Two other garments also have a strong memory with me. One I still have, my grandparents brought me a party dress, yellow & white stripes, which had a self pattern on the strpies….this from memory, I haven’t gone and dug it out. It had a set in waist band that turned into a tie at the back and a peter pan collar.
But the big thing about it was the under skirt and the rustle it made it and the way it held the skirt out, I remember the need to spin on the spot to have it all whoosh out. It just added to the excitement and what I now know as glamour, to anything I wore it to.
The final thing was a Donegal fabric skirt with box pleats & jacket with brass buttons my mother made for me, I guess I was 7ish I absolutely didn’t like it and would do anything not to wear it!….but then, when it was nearly too small for me, I suddenly found the beauty in it, the colour, which I remember as an emerald green with possibly black flecks. The shiny brass buttons that were great to suck!, the feel, soft and warm and workman ship.I think this was the last thing my mum made for me. Most probably from the disappointment of all that work then not worn!
From then on I would wear it at the slightest excuse, until finally it was definitely too small and most probably passed on to someone else.
Which also brought to mind that the yellow jacket, I found out later on in years, had been made by mum’s friend for her daughter then passed onto me and no doubt then passed on again. When I asked my mum about it she could remember it too and told me what an amazing needle woman her friend was.