Archive for September, 2008

Jean Hopkins in 1990

My favorite dress wasn’t mine. It wasn’t even that pretty. In fact, it was a little gaudy.

Picture a bodice of electric lime green, dotted with big black stars, a full gored skirt of black with green trim, accessorized by green tights and a black vest. This dress represents independence, anticipation and the sheer joy of facing a new experience.

My four-year-old daughter Jean selected this dress for her first day of kindergarten. Nothing could persuade her to choose a tamer dress for her debut. What I remember most was the walk to school that first morning. She ran, jumped, skipped and twirled all the way. She was a blur of fluorescent lime green and black. The sun shone from under her feet as she flew to school, so ready to start something new.

I, however, had a lump in my throat as I watched my baby grow.

Gwen Hopkins, Toronto, Ont.

I have spent the past hour procrastinating from writing a paper by looking through your website. I am a fourth year women’s studies major living in Montreal, and when thinking about dresses that have stayed in my memory and made an impact on me, I don’t think of my favorite dress, rather the one that was the most disappointing to my young mind.

I am the daughter of Gwen and Tom Hopkins, who married in 1973 at the age of 22, the same age as I am now. They met while working as servers at the Old Spaghetti Factory, and needless to say had very little money. My father proposed to my mother – to which she replied “maybe” – after about 5 months of knowing one another. They had a small ceremony on the farm that my mother grew up on.

When I was about 6 years old, after hearing this story, I asked my mother to show me her wedding dress. I was expecting a crisp white dress with sequins and puffy sleeves (this was the early 90s). Instead, my mother pulled out an off-white cotton hippy dress with flared sleeves, with what looked like burlap around the cuffs. I think my mother could sense my disbelief and said something along the lines of “I knew you would be disappointed.”

In retrospect, I think this was the first time that I saw my mother as someone other than simply just my mother. Someone who had a life long before I came along.

Your dresses are stunning and your message is inspiring. Thank you so much for doing this.

Jean Hopkins, Montreal, Quebec

I have always had a penchant for designer clothes, but many years ago I was in a situation of a champagne taste on a beer budget, so I used to sew my clothes. This way, I was able to have lovely designer fabrics and by using Vogue patterns I felt as if I was wearing haute couture.

When I wanted a new dress, I would have a vision in my mind of what the outfit should look like. I would then find the fabric and now my problems started. I wanted the dress to have a particular look and I could not find a pattern. I had no training in dress designing so I would make the dress to my needs by buying many patterns and by using the sleeves from one, the body from another, the neck line from another. I would create my own design. That’s how “The Little Green Dress” was created.

I was invited to go to a dinner and theatre. I wanted to look lovely, so, I needed a new dress. I found a wonderful celadon green wool crepe fabric and Emilo Pucci (like) silk for the lining with the same celadon green in the print. I was off and running.

I have always loved the Elizabethan style and decided I wanted that beautiful sleeve on my dress – long, draped wide at the wrist and coming to a point so my gorgeous fabric would show when I moved my arms and my hands as I talked and ate dinner.

The neck was square and low on the bust line. The body of the dress was A-line which was very flattering. This was in the 70s so it was a respectable length mini. I thought I was so sexy.

I remember receiving many compliments on my beautiful dress, and of course I would never let anyone know it was home made, that would have defeated the whole purpose. I was proud of this dress. The color and design was wonderful. I wore “The Little Green Dress” many times and always felt like a queen.

Eileen Ebin, Florence, Italy

The dress I have in mind is a dress in dreams and for the future. Over the last few weeks I’ve been constructing this dress with someone who lives overseas. This dress is kind of a personal fantasy but I wanted to share it.

Because he is far away we sometimes create these fantastical settings where we meet. So far, Venice is a favorite. Here are some of his words: “I saw you in your blue dress, simple, sometimes to just above the knee, sometimes the neck gathered, swooping and low. Sometimes the dress is long, the back open and asymmetrical with a weight of fabric emphasizing movement towards your hips. In both cases you are turning – slow and again and again toward me, the weight of your hair echoing that of the fabric. Sometimes in bright sunlight, as if the blue has replaced the floral dress of your Venetian dream. And then in darkness, a faint silver thread catching my attention as it runs through the length of the dress.”

“My mind is drifting to that red/brown room we haven’t visited in a while. Standing close together, hands by our sides but fingers entwined; our lips are just brushing, feeling the breath pass between and into us. Your black dress is blue, its neck slung low in folds of a fabric that is almost liquid. There’s a diamond-sharp glint in your eyes and a peach-soft smile on your lips.

“Our eyes close and all the world falls away.”

Sarah Cullen, Toronto, Ont.

Carol Barrett at left

During my teens, in the war years, I spent two summers working in the Niagara Peninsula as a “Farmerette” which was part of the Ontario Farm Service Force. Students picked strawberries and swayed on 20-foot ladders up in the cherry, plum and peach trees, thinning and picking. We were paid 25 cents an hour and had to pay $4.50 a week for room and board. It was hard work but we had a lot of fun! There were 12 camps in the Peninsula with 20-40 girls in each.

We swam in Lake Ontario and hitchhiked everywhere. Most drivers recognized our OFSF badges. Going to Buffalo was always special and on one trip I spied a spiffy red and white dress that I just had to have. You weren’t supposed to take such things across the border, so I wore it under my outfit and had no problem.

I thought I wouldn’t have a chance to wear the new dress until I got home to Toronto but, much to my surprise, the camp director told me that they were having a Miss Farmerette contest in St. Catharines and I had been picked to represent our camp. My first thought was, “Great, I have my new red and white dress.”

The pageant was held in a bandstand in a park and the farmers brought truckloads of Farmerettes from the area to cheer the 24 contestants. It was such an exciting evening. The judges eliminated half and then reduced the number to five and then to three.

I thought, “Is this still me, parading around in my red and white dress?” I wasn’t at all disappointed when I came second. I was just so overwhelmed by the event.

Of course, there was much excitement when I got back at the camp. One of my friends asked, “Massey, how did you do it?’ I simply said, “It was the dress that did it.” And with that I pulled out wads of toilet paper from my bra amid gales of laughter and shouts of “cheater” but, for me, that dress and that evening were the highlight of my young life.

Carol Barrett, Toronto, Ont.

Reflecting over the years, there is one dress that stands out. The year was 1969 and I was in my last year of nursing school. Our Grad Prom was scheduled for May and, two weeks before the dance, I had neither a date nor a dress. My mother, who was struggling with a recurrence of cancer, suggested that I call an old boyfriend. I immediately got on the phone. He picked up on the first ring and agreed readily. Now, the bigger question – what to wear?

My mom suggested we go downtown to Kingsmill’s – a wonderful London department store that sold high-end fabric among other things. She and I spent over two hours there – searching through pattern books, deciding on the “right pattern” and then rummaging through the fabric to find one that would work. I was still in school and had very little money. When I came across some gorgeous silk, I knew I had to have it; but, the cost was too high. My mom suggested that I use the silk for the “bodice” (as we called it then) and find some plainer fabric for the long skirt. I needed only one yard of silk and that I could afford easily. I spent the next couple of days at home, sewing and visiting with my mom (I was living in residence at the time). It was so wonderful to have something other than my mom’s illness to focus on.

My mom helped with the hand sewing and showed me how to make a sash out of the leftover silk. The dress was soooooooo beautiful: a V-necked bodice, made from a chocolate brown and off-white floral silk; the skirt was an off-white linen – A-line to the floor. I prayed for the sun to shine some time in the next two weeks so that I could get a tan in time for the dance. Even that worked!

On the evening of the prom, my date arrived and gasped as he gazed at the dress. We had a great time and he asked me to attend a fraternity function the next weekend. The rest is history: we became engaged a few months later, and married almost a year to the day later! My mother, of course, was thrilled as it was her idea! As it turned out, that was the last time my mom and I had such an experience. We moved to Indiana immediately after being married and Mom got very sick shortly thereafter. I often think about that dress and wish that I had kept it; but I had no idea at the time how special a memory it would become.

Heather Erskine, London, Ont.