Waking up Our Wardrobe and Ourselves

What my college-aged niece taught me this semester.

At the age of two or three, my niece Sophia slept on an air mattress at the foot of our bed whenever she stayed over. She liked her space. My husband and I liked ours. In the early light of a Saturday morning, we’d hear a little voice, “Is it wakeup time?” We wanted to answer “no.” The reply was always, “yes.”

Sophia’s back in the house this week. She’s a college freshman at UC DAAP, studying fashion design, up the street from Over-the-Rhine. If donuts are on the menu—of which we walked 2 miles last week for them and the shop was closed—she’ll wake early. With exams over, and a day or two left before she flies home, “wake up time” comes a little later. For all I know, she’s upstairs re-watching Gilded Age, which she, my husband and I have become addicted to Aunt Agnes’ intentional slips of the tongue.

So, when is wake up time? About now for me.

In our twenties, Sophia’s mother, my sister, and I were tighter than twins for many years, that is, until she experienced an anoxic brain event. I/we have cultivated this relationship out of my need to be close to that original bond.

What intrigues me is the possession Sophia has of herself. Of the ability to be alone, but not lonely. How much of me I see in her. And how much of me I don’t. Genetics fascinates me, in an Italian American family where we all looked so much alike, and yet. What might Sophia have inherited from her other side of the family, or from her mother and our side, that I never possessed—other than a skill for drawing.

In all forms of social interactions, she’s content, wanting for nothing more than that scarf from the vintage shop, which we’ve frequented around town.

Sophia’s confidence extends to her appearance, reminding me how one year for Christmas as a teen, my entire gift wardrobe consisted of all purple (note: the room I write in is also painted in the purple of SW Soulmate).

Vintage shopping with Sophia sent me asking, who were we really in 9^th grade or as a college soph?

In shops she and I traipsed through, my entire high school, college and post-collegiate era wardrobe had been on display. Sophia tired to hear me say, “I used to have…,” “My sister wore…,” or “My mother owned...” For every piece of clothing my fingers brushed over, a narrative tumbled forth, as if touching it reawakened something in me. And that included the long leather coat my husband Mark tried on, with a callback to Miami Vice.

After a pandemic that crushed our souls, we all want to experience our ongoing stories on display in a vintage shop manner of preservation. We want to be seen and remembered. We want our lives to be comfortable and worn.

At times, we’ve laughed while looking through old photos of the days she played around with our family, building snowmen (a Florida girl?), gazing at the Fountain Square Christmas Tree. Her pink and black striped shirt with black tights, her leopard spotted little girl’s coat, and her sometimes disheveled hair she/we tried to tame. Reminiscing about her wardrobe then, what inspired her, what perplexed her. What gave her comfort and care.

With our adult kids living out of state, Sophia is a balm for long dark nights. I’ll miss her when she leaves for a month. She’ll say, that sweater is perfect for you or remind me houndstooth is back, recalling a skirt worn all the time. A skirt I borrowed from her mother—or was it mine? That too was always hard to tell. And, at last count, five signature pieces in my closet were purchased in her presence—and I hate shopping.

One of Sophia’s design projects focused on Elsa Schiaparelli, the famed Italian fashion designer, who gave us shocking pink as her signature color. No soulmate purple for her, or bright green as is Sophia’s hallmark. Ms. Schiaparelli once said, “Every dress has a story to tell; it is an expression of a woman's personality, her passions, her fears, and her desires.”

For the moment, black tights stretch to up to my hips and slippers sit cockeyed on my feet as a I write. A long black sweater purchased on Salt Spring Island, British Columbia, to keep away the northwest chill now keeps the midwest cold at bay. I’m feeling the need for a little “wake up” time myself, to embrace the full expression of what stories my wardrobe tells, and match them to what’s on the inside.

---

Here’s a few offerings in the new year to jump start your writing. Yet to come are workshops at Cleveland’s Italian American Museum, the Lloyd Library Museum, and more craft talks with Tina Neyer.

January 9

I’ll be appearing on Wellmed’s Caregiver SOS podcast. Live, on-air at 2:30. Visit this link for more details.

*

January 17h at 7 p.m. One year ago, my writing partner, Tina Neyer and I, created a space for a community of writers who wanted to meet in northern Kentucky. Thus, Gugel Alley Writers, inside Roebling Books of Newport, was born. On the 17th, we will celebrate by reading and sharing. Come listen in. More details to come.

*

February 10, 10 - 12 noon. Contemporary Arts Center. As part of the ongoing Creativing Writing Project, I’ll be leading a workshop on the theme inspired by the newest CAC exhibition by Tia Shani, My Bodily Remains. Visit www.cac.org. soon for details on signing up.

*

NEW and On-going

Pauletta Hansel and I are pleased to announce two of our FREE Caring for the Caregiver writing experiences will be IN PERSON. We know this is important to many of our participants, so we are happy to offer this in partnership with Giving Voice Foundation and Jewish Family Services.

Our first date is Feb. 9th, 10-noon in partnership with Jewish Family Services Adult Day program, and August 9th, 10-noon. Watch this space, or visit givingvoicefdn.org soon to register.

Our FREE, VIRTUAL writing experiences for caregivers will continue through Much More than a Meal and Giving Voice. Tentative dates of May 7 and November 14, 10-noon. Forthcoming details will also found at givingvoicefdn.org soon.

*

I rarely share my professional work for Promedica / Aging and Balance in our Lives here. A favorite of mine, Caregiving and the Five Senses, hit the airwaves back in August. Here’s the link.