Theatre des Modes

For those of us in the Theatre Troupe, fashion week is just two weeks away.  Time to put the finishing touches on our theatres and fashion designs as the May 31 deadline approaches. 

I found this little homage to my great grandmother Catherine while going through an old journal this morning and thought I'd share as it reminded me that she was the one who inspired my love of fashion.  I wrote this back in 1999 and called it The Gift.

The old trunk had been stowed away many years ago, but I am determined to find it no matter how long it takes.  How could something so large escape my attention for so long? After weeks of searching, finally the dusty trunk reveals itself in a dark recess of the garage loft.  In my delirium, I nearly fall off the ladder heaving the unwieldy trunk to the table below. Raising the lid, the object of my treasure hunt is at last exposed. For inside the trunk, I find the time-worn box covered in a flowery remnant of wallpaper from my grandmother's bedroom. It was in this box that I had placed gran's gift. My mind wandered as I gazed into the open box, transported back in time to my gran's sewing room. The air is perfumed with her rosewater and the sound of our laughter charges the room. I can feel the cool china buttons on her dress pressed against my flushed cheeks, as we whirl around the room.

You see, as a pre-teenage girl, I spent all my summer vacations with my grandparents in Pennsylvania. I would leave home as soon as school was out and return the weekend before school resumed. For three consecutive summers, my great grandmother Catherine, for whom I was named, had been sharing with me her love of fashion and design. We whiled away the hours in her basement sewing room. A largish room with massive curtain-less windows. It was here that she placed her work tables to make the most of the sunlight and hillside vista. Along the remaining walls were the many bookcases which housed her vast collection of fabrics, threads, laces, trims and tiny drawers of every kind of button imaginable. A life-long lover of fabric, she had collected textiles from all over the world, and the expansive collection was meticulously arranged by color on open shelves. Her finer fabrics and treasured buttons were stored in armoires away from the light.

In spite of the size of the room, it was cozy. She had arranged two magnificent armoires mid-room, like partitions, making the sewing areas more intimate. The worktables were shop-worn, recycled from an old textile mill.  Their patina was dark and distressed, and they resonated a history all their own. Her three mannequins, stately remnants of a former life, were positioned near the work tables. Two of the three were always swathed in fabrics and various elements of in-progress designs. The third, a french one, was my favorite. It was adorned with black velvet ribbon from which dangled silver scissors. The flaxen form also flaunted antique hat pins, glass quilt pins, an assortment of jewel-toned Hermes scarves, and was crowned with a pink pillbox hat and veil.

Each morning, gran would bring out the over-size sketchbooks and we would sit in the garden perfecting our drawings for the end-of-summer show, which was expertly modeled by a melange of trendy dolls. Once our designs were ready for production, we would spread newsprint on the cutting tables and gran would instruct me on garment construction.  When we eventually stitched the outfits together, the quest for the perfect trims and buttons would ensue.  This was my favorite part of the process, as Gran would permit me to search endlessly through the drawers and drawers of beads, trims, sequins, pearls, ribbons, feathers and buttons.

This summer, like the previous two, gran had put together a basketful of fabric scraps and trims accumulated from projects over the course of the year.  The basket was brimming with colorful treasures, which I would linger over for many months, savoring each fragment and dreaming of new creations. While gran had hinted of a "special something," I was unprepared for what was about to unfold. Next to my scrap basket, was a doll-sized mannequin.  The linen form stood approximately 18 inches in height, complete with black stenciled serial numbers (a mark which appears on all fine french mannequins), and was poised atop a black iron stand. My very own dressmaker's mannequin had been meticulously stitched and now awaited me. In my exuberance I reached out to hug gran, and we began to dance about the room.

Sadly, this was to be our last summer in the sewing room. I treasure the time I had with my great grandmother and the special memories she crafted. It is those memories from which I draw upon now to share with you my affinity for fashion design.

Comments

[betzie]

Such a sweet tribute to your times shared with your great grandmother. Her inspiration lives on you for sure. It sounded like a fabulous way to spend a summer! Thanks for sharing..Betzie

[Barbara]

What a wonderful piece...such a great tribute to a terrific woman in your life. You were so lucky to have had those experiences.

[Rima St.John]

Catherine, I was so touched by your lovely story, I can smell the mustiness of the upper garage loft and see the trunk hitting the floor. What wonderful memories for you. So now we know where all this artistry and love for fashion and dolls is attributed. It's a day late but Happy Mother's day sweet great- granny, wish you were still here but Catherine still thinks and 'writes' about you!!

Rima

[Rima St.John]

Catherine, I was so touched by your lovely story, I can smell the mustiness of the upper garage loft and see the trunk hitting the floor. What wonderful memories for you. So now we know where all this artistry and love for fashion and dolls is attributed. It's a day late but Happy Mother's day sweet great- granny, wish you were still here but Catherine still thinks and 'writes' about you!!

Rima

[mary ann]

beautiful post. equally beautiful memories!

thank you for sharing the origins of your passion for de mode!!!

xo mary ann

[Iva]

What lovely memories, and how special to have spent those summers with your grandmother. Thank you for sharing and inspiring us too...Iva

[Trish Lewis]

A beautiful tribute, Catherine. I had many such times with my own grandmother and mother. Memories like these are precious...