Patio Dresses

To say that my mother had an interest in clothes is an understatement. In many ways, she was obsessed with fashion her entire life - not runway fashion - but the nicest clothes she could purchase on sale.


Photo taken in 1955

Growing up, we didn't have money but we always had nice things - either hand-made by Mom and Grandma Skinner or purchased on sale with her additional employee discount at J.C. Penney's. We learned about high-end brands by shopping the Fire Sale store, where undamaged merchandise was sold off at a deep discount - today, there are outlet stores.


Photo likely taken in 1949

We observed all of the fashion rules ... patent leather in summer, suede in winter - never the two shall meet. Straw or canvas handbags could be carried in Spring, leather in the fall. White only after Easter and never after Labor Day - unless, of course, it was "winter white" and in an appropriate fabric weight (think wool or boucle). I'm not entirely sure how Mary and I managed to talk her into those white "go-go boots", but we did.


Believe it or not, this was in style in 1972

In addition to THE RULES, there was what she considered appropriate. Never wear black or white to a wedding. Never wear anything completely sleeveless to church, work or a business event. And, probably the most important - if your shoes and handbag are expensive, no one will notice that your clothes were bought at a discount.


2011 Birthday Queen

For Mom, shoes were the cat's meow. Her arthritis prevented her from wearing anything stylish in later years - we'll call them the Reebok years - but after moving to Holly Hall she was developing a great affection for the Cole Haans that I found on sale.

Her favorites were a dusky plum and at the hospital on Monday, as we were leaving the ER and wheeling her to the ICU, she could barely talk but managed to ask if I had her purple shoes!


Her final collection

So this gets me to the patio dresses.

Going through and weeding out Mom's clothes was a delicate matter and these sessions resulted in much negotiating and shouting - we had just done this during the move to HealthCare. Without consulting her I had put three hideous, moo-moo style dresses into the donation pile and when I visited her the next day she asked about her "patio dress" with the elephants on it.

I had never heard the term "patio dress" and didn't know where she had come up with THAT, but I knew exactly what she was talking about and had to admit that I'd ditched it in the move. Her nurses had told her that she was allowed to wear a robe, or said patio dress, to the dining room on the days that they were not able to get her showered and fully dressed before breakfast at 7am. This would make things easier for her, so I fished out the elephant dress and another, equally hideous version, from the give-aways.

It's not what anyone would consider fashion, but she was thrilled.


In all it's glory - the patio dress

A few days later, I get a sales email from Nordstrom advertising PATIO DRESSES! I thought that was funny, because I honestly didn't know where the term had come from and apparently, in the end, she was still in fashion.