The blue velvet dress and the end of an era
I've said a lot of goodbyes in my time - too many, really. A recent farewell felt especially wrenching. You wouldn't think letting go of a dress would be so hard. Rather than have it hang in the closet like some museum piece, I decided to give my daughter the midnight blue velvet cocktail dress that had created such a stir. It wasn't so much that I was giving up the dress, but what that particular dress represented: reaping the benefits of beauty in full bloom.
In San Francisco, after a long, painful goodbye, I was enjoying a flirtation with an older, sophisticated New York-born architect. We were introduced at a dinner party months earlier, when we were both with other partners. After exchanging phone calls, we agreed to meet for dinner. But he wanted to surprise me with the destination. When I said I'd play along if he'd give me a hint about what to wear, he responded, "Something slightly wicked."
Naturally I was intrigued by this remark. And a quick glance in my closet determined a shopping expedition was in order. Hence the trip to Macy's in Union Square, where I saw it: a Betsey Johnson midnight blue velvet dress with a v-neck and long sleeves. It was a perfect fit, showing a respectable glimpse of cleavage, skimming the body and hitting three inches above the knee. I also found the beautiful pair of midnight blue satin strappy shoes to match. I wore gold drop earrings with lapis-lazuli and rust-coloured stones and my shoulder-length hair was coloured auburn. I'd rarely looked better. And he was suitably impressed.
The evening was lovely - he arrived at the door with an armful of roses, drove me in his sleek Jaguar to a fabulous restaurant, where champagne was chilling and waiters practically fell over themselves to accommodate our every wish. The meal was superb, with excellent food and wine and sparkling conversation. Afterwards we took a moonlight stroll near San Francisco Bay, then went dancing. On paper, it was a picture-perfect evening. The reality was that it seemed like he was trying too hard and I was acutely aware of the age difference.
But that "slightly wicked" dress had other outings. When I wore that dress, a man I'd been dating only a few weeks asked me to marry him - in front of a roomful of his friends! I declined. When I wore a figure-hugging black mohair sweater dress, I fell in love at first sight with a Dutchman at a dinner party in Bahrain. The disc jockey played Strangers in the Night when we danced, so apparent was our mutual attraction to everyone. Alas, timing and living on different continents would conspire to keep us apart. And the dress vanished, along with nine suitcases left behind in Jordan.
Both the blue velvet dress and the black sweater dress are symbols of a time when I felt strong and relatively self-confident. It was a time heads always turned to follow me and possibilities were endless; a time when invitations were virtually non-stop and I never worried about facing fifty.
In December when shopping with Jordana in London, I was looking at kicky little black dresses and divine cocktail frocks and wishing I was the kind of woman beseiged with invitations to parties where such dresses were expected. And I suddenly realised I had been that woman; I had worn similar dresses to soirees and fetes. I had worn such confections in New York, London, San Francisco and Amman; in Cairo, Manama and Madrid. But now in Paris - the great fashion capital - such occasions are few and far between. I have a different life, which for the most part pleases me. And these days I avoid cocktail parties whenever possible. Still, moments of nostalgia arise...
My daughter, who is taller and thinner than I (and laments that she doesn't have my cleavage - I assure her she's better off) will wear the blue velvet dress over jeans, or embellish or adorn the classic design, giving it a more modern twist. But I suspect the dress will never have quite the same impact on her young life. She won't find it hard to say goodbye.
Read other tales of adieu at Sunday Scribblings.
Wow, Tara, what a chord you have struck in so many of us. I too get attached to certain outfits that have shared special occasions with me and/or in which I know I looked great and was noticed. And I have had those I hated to part with because it acknowledged the passing of something special. You always write beautifully, but this post was extraordinary. You described the evening in the blue velvet dress so well it felt like we were there with you.
Don't know how old your daughter is, from previous posts I have always assumed she was quite young (maybe 8 or younger), but to be taller than you, I am now thinking maybe 13 or a bit more. Anyway, I started that to say that someday reading about this episode of Mom in the "naughty" blue velvet dress charming the older man and having a story-book evening will absolutely delight her. It should also make her own ownership of and experiences in the dress more special.
Thank you, thank you for sharing this deliciously fascinating post and the unique personal memories it allowed so many of us to recall as well.
Posted by: sundaycynce | 08 February 2007 at 05:32
I am late getting to the Sunday offerings. Just posted mine. This made me smile because I love being able to keep family history alive by passing things down. I liked how it connected to the earlier post. Thanks.
Posted by: Jone | 07 February 2007 at 14:43
What a beautiful if sad post. I realize now, too, that fewer heads turn when I walk in the room. It shouldn't matter but some how it does. Some how I feel old suddenly. Some how my face looks drawn. Some how it feels like my charm (to the degreee that I have it) is slipping away...
Posted by: Maryam in Marrakesh | 06 February 2007 at 12:22
love it! love it! love it!
sad. funny. sweet... with just a hint of naughty!
Posted by: angel | 06 February 2007 at 06:52
this was fun to read...it's nice to remember those "just right" dresses that made you feel like a million bucks. Seems it would be fun, too, to see what your daughter does with it. Thanks for the good read.
Posted by: Megan | 06 February 2007 at 05:12
a fun post to read; so sweet that your daughter has incorporated the dress into her wardrobe.
Posted by: AscenderRisesAbove | 05 February 2007 at 16:46
Oh, I just loved this. I am extremely attached to my clothes as well, and each outfit definitely holds a string of memories. Sometimes I won't remember details about anniversaries, birthdays, parties, etc. - but I ALWAYS am able to remember what I wore to such occasions.
I'm sure your daughter will look lovely in her dress.
This was a wonderful, wonderful post.
Posted by: ali la loca | 05 February 2007 at 13:04
"She Wore Blue Velvet"...lalala :)
Lovely writing bringing great memories for me, too. "Gem" and I love to dance. In an older blog of mine I wrote a humorous account of "Amethyst" raiding my closet, including "The" gown I've never worn, which as been to more unusual places than I'd have ever imagined when I bought it. My younger daughter has also worn this same gown; it's very sophisticated. Gem and I have several balls and art openings/receptions to attend this month (and often monthly) so I thought I'd borrow "my" gown back but it's the wrong color for these "themed" events.
My daughters have also borrowed clothes I sved from high school and college for various theatre performances they've been in. It's a strange, but nice, feeling to see my past on stage. It was totally weird though, to see my clothes on other cast members. I hadn't realized "Amethyst" lent them out for *others* for the productions in high school.
Wonderfully engaging post.
Posted by: GeL(Emerald Eyes) | 05 February 2007 at 08:51
So enjoyable to read! I can just picture that dress and the atmosphere of the places you went in it, the people you met, and how special it is.
Posted by: KG | 05 February 2007 at 03:30
Great post, Tara! A story well-told.
Posted by: G | 05 February 2007 at 02:51
Oh now you have me thinking of certain "killer outfits" I wore way back when.
**sigh
Wonderful read - mucho thanks!
Posted by: Frances | 05 February 2007 at 02:46
i love your writing. i want to go and put on something i feel sexy in... and then go do the dishes.
Posted by: jenica | 05 February 2007 at 02:20
I agree that was a wonderful twist on the prompt. Reminded me of a black wraparound dress I had at one point . . . (sigh)
Great read!
Posted by: JHS | 05 February 2007 at 00:51
What a great twist on the goodbye theme from Sunday Scribblings!
I have a sophisticated Japanese dress that I can't give away even though it's unlikely to fit me again. It must be nice to pass on your treasures to someone you care about.
Posted by: my backyard | 05 February 2007 at 00:06
A sad farewell to something with so many memories for you. Beautifully written words honey.
Posted by: rach | 04 February 2007 at 23:35
What a well-put-together memory! Thanks for posting it.
Posted by: Pearl | 04 February 2007 at 22:31
Loved loved this post! Your goodbye had the grace of a well-lived and loved life...and I love that the dress is moving to your daughter. How fitting!
Posted by: mardougrrl | 04 February 2007 at 21:40
This is beautiful, Tara - and you still ARE beautiful, inside and out. Though I know the wistfulness that you speak of (been there, done that - held the dress out to my daughter, with a little meou of nostalgia), yet I truly do believe the best days are here and now. Loved reading this.
Posted by: tinker | 04 February 2007 at 21:29
Oh how fun, Tara! I love the feel of this writing, and this memory. You have had such a great time in your life! I love to read these things from your life.
I am just now feeling more my physical self again, after having kids. I am again enjoying the way I look in clothes, and the way I can still turn heads here and there...It is a powerful feeling, and I know it won't last forever. I wish I had places to wear such dresses, too! Now, while I would still work the room. LOL. Ah, well...
Posted by: Amber | 04 February 2007 at 21:12
Ahhh the stories of our favorite frocks combined in blogland would be a best seller! I loved the memories this post evoked ;) HUGS XXOO
Posted by: Tammy | 04 February 2007 at 20:00
Tara this lovely post takes me back to those certain garments that proved to be more than deligthful fabric in my closet. Thank you so much for your words they always take me to other places.
XO
Kristen
Posted by: Kristen Robinson | 04 February 2007 at 19:26
You have all those memories to keep with you long after the dress is gone. That's better than pining after lost opportunities.
You are a stronger woman than I am. I think it would kill me to see a favorite dress altered by someone else. I would rather give it away where I would never see it again.
Posted by: Dani | 04 February 2007 at 18:54
Tara, I love this post. Brought back so many memories of my own from a life I once had too; not nearly as adventurous as yours was but full of joy just the same. :)
Thanks for bringing back some of those memories from long ago.
Posted by: Lisa | 04 February 2007 at 18:38
Lovely post, it must be a lovely dress. I have several items of clothing that are special to me but as I am a committed second hand shopper, they're mostly not too difficult to say goodbye to when the time comes.
Posted by: Crafty Green Poet | 04 February 2007 at 17:49
a great read!
and i'm glad to find someone else as attached to certain dresses from their past as i am. a particular long-past green dress often rears its head in my poetry...
Posted by: bb | 04 February 2007 at 16:26
You're a beautiful writer. Thank you for sharing your goodbye.
Posted by: sognatrice | 04 February 2007 at 16:11
Beautiful story, beautifully told. You've got me mourning the passing of my prime, as if I need to be encouraged to do that. My daughter was wearing a purple tartan mini skirt that was formerly mine yesterday. Thinner, taller, better chest: good luck to her. *grumbles in jealousy*
I do have some hope in wisdom and confidence of being older, one day, though. If I grow up a bit. Here's hoping.
Posted by: Jemima von Schindelberg | 04 February 2007 at 16:07
Tara,
The painting was too pastelly for a colorblind guy like me. Your story however was just the opposite: Vivid, rich, and engaging. I love reading your memories of your exciting life. I'm sure you've more fantastic stories that haven't seen the light of day here ;-)
Jordana will have no less an exciting life....And as my son J. says to me: Dad I'll tell you when I think your ready.
This is a marvellus "goodbye" post.
rel
p.s. There must be a photo of you in that blue velvet dress? Dancing to Bobby Vinton?
;-)))
Posted by: rel | 04 February 2007 at 15:27
I loved reading this. Your stories are just fascinating! I hope Jordana gets as much happiness and delight from the blue velvet dress as you did.
Posted by: bella | 04 February 2007 at 15:17
I wish I had a piece of clothing that felt that significant for me. The last time I loved a dress, I was wearing Strawberry Shortcake complete with red and white candy stripped sleeves.
Good job...
Posted by: GoGo | 04 February 2007 at 13:27
What a beautiful and bitter-sweet story.
Posted by: Waspgoddess | 04 February 2007 at 13:02
Thank you for your beautiful words and for you.
You say hello and I say goodbye
The Beatles.
Love Jeanne ^j^
Posted by: Jeanne | 04 February 2007 at 12:47
Of course the farewell was wrenching because of the wonderful memories that the dress held within its velvet folds. Now you have preserved those memories here, and by sharing them given them wonderful new life (how many times will your blue dress be spoken of by one of us who read about it here? you'll never know but you can be sure it will happen).
xx
Posted by: Frida | 04 February 2007 at 12:46
This was such an interesting read. Yes, some clothes of ours can hold such significance that we are loathe to part with them. You must have looked stunning in that blue velvet dress. Just think, at least it's going to a good home.
Posted by: Hundred and one | 04 February 2007 at 08:40
It's interesting how objects in our lives can be just as powerful as the people! The memories attached to such items make for the most fascinating stories! Thank you, Tara!
Posted by: Regina Clare Jane | 04 February 2007 at 07:30
I have similar memories of "dresses gone by" and they bring back such strongly emotional responses when I think of them and they people I wore them for.
Posted by: kenju | 04 February 2007 at 07:03
A beautiful story, Tara, so very wonderfully "you".
Posted by: Kerstin | 04 February 2007 at 06:21
The life and times of the sophisticates...who knows if I would have liked to have that in my past or in my future. You tell it so well that I feel like I have been there.
Should I go get a Jaguar?...and take dancing lessons?
Posted by: Nutster | 04 February 2007 at 03:04
Lovely post.
Posted by: Mandi | 04 February 2007 at 01:49
Isn't it amazing how many tales one dress can tell! And congratulations on the nominations (in your previous post)
Posted by: Catherine | 04 February 2007 at 01:03
It was nice reading your musings on those dresses and the stories that goes with them.
Thank you.
Posted by: Liza | 04 February 2007 at 00:32
I adore this post and love the collection of memories you have with these dresses. And I LOVE that you've passed the best of them onto your daughter so she too, can have memories associated with this beautiful blue dress.
Posted by: kristen | 04 February 2007 at 00:13
Does all your life read so much like a cosmopolitan novel? Well, this is a rhetorical question. We all have our mundane moments. I am convinced though that you still feel strong and self-confident.
Posted by: runliarun | 03 February 2007 at 23:54
I love the tale of your blue velvet dress! what a life you have lead - living in all those exotic places. Me? I was born about an hours drive from where I live now and have never lived anywhere else. But I dream :)
I had a red velvet dress once - I was two years old and I felt like a princess, just like you did xoxo
Posted by: miss*R | 03 February 2007 at 23:26
gorgeous writing!! I love romance. And, even more, I love velvet!
Posted by: London Southern Belle | 03 February 2007 at 23:24
This is such a good post so full of romance and promise and mystery.
Nothing but what I have come to expect from you!
You are braver than me too, I give nothing away--just lose everything!;)
Novel
Posted by: Novel Nymph | 03 February 2007 at 22:59
It is hard to say goodbye to past stages of our lives, it is almost like saying farewell to a close, dear friend. But yet, those younger versions of ourselves reside within, with or without a midnight blue velvet cocktail dress. Much love, JP
Posted by: JanePoe (aka Deborah) | 03 February 2007 at 22:35
I love the intrigue of the blue velvet dress. What a wonderful memory & a nice opportunity to pass on to your daughter.
:)
Meg
Posted by: megnificence! | 03 February 2007 at 22:32
I loved this post!
Posted by: Misplaced | 03 February 2007 at 22:02
I meant we have had.
Posted by: gautami | 03 February 2007 at 21:01