Today, I sat down beside my pastor’s young daughter and struck up a conversation. We got to talking about my new watch–and how it has interchangeable wristbands (black, white, tan, and pink). Ashley asked that I wear the pink wristband next week.
“I’ll have to figure out something to wear to match it.” I said. And then I realized my mistake: “But chances are I’ll have no problem, next week being Easter.”
Because Easter is the time for fancy pastel dresses and big hats.
[Click on the picture for a slide show of some of our Easter outfits through the years.]
My grandma always bought the girls Easter dresses and the boys Easter suits. Oftentimes, they were the only truly NEW clothing that we got all year (well, except for the Christmas outfits that she bought us.) Everything else was hand-me-downs or used store garb. Not that we complained about the rest of our clothes–but it sure was fun to have some new clothes.
We would take our semi-annual trips to the mall with Grandma and gasp as she urged us to try on dresses that cost 30, 40, 50, and even 80 dollars. In our minds, that was a simply preposterous sum for one article of clothing. (In my mind, it still is!)
But we ended up with quite a collection of Easter dresses.
Now that I’m a “grown-up”, I miss the fancy dresses of my youth. We don’t dress up like we used to, not even for church. Little girls could still pull off what I wore–if they could find it–but grown women certainly don’t wear pretty springtime dresses at Easter like they used to when I was a girl.
That was a neat group of pictures to see!! I loved Easter Dresses!!!! When I was little we use to drive to Scottsbluff every Easter and spend it on the farm with my Dad’s Aunt and Uncle…one Easter my mom had this pretty pink and white fufu dress with tights and shoes to accessorize it, we were getting ready to leave for church and nobody knew that I had wondered outside to look at the ducks in the duck pond and when they found me it was too late-muddy wet and yuck everywhere and I think on the way back to the house I had managed to step in some doggy doo. My mom told that story over and over through out the years…that and the time I sang my first solo in High School Choir at the Christmas Concert (when they were still called Christmas Concerts)and I forgot the words!