The sight of my grandpa’s woolen army hats from the 1950s inspires my grandma to tell stories of my grandpa’s adventures in the army, which make us laugh until we cry. A few minutes later, we actually cry and embrace when my grandma uncovers a poem she had written after my aunt passed as a child. The poem is tucked away in an antique handkerchief box next to my grandma’s pale blue wedding garter and the receipt from her first-ever mink coat.
Sometimes, vintage clothing and accessories can connect us with the dead. Other times, they connect us with the living.
My grandma will carefully remove the small linen shirt from the plastic bag she had been keeping it in. Her nails are always perfectly trimmed and shaped as she flattens the top out on the bed, taking it all in as if she’s seeing everything for the first time.
However, it certainly isn’t the first time she’s seen it. Her mother made her this traditional Russian dance shirt when my grandmother was a child. My sister wore it decades later when she played one of the younger daughters in a production of “Fiddler on the Roof.”
I’m so grateful for my grandma Selma’s continued presence in my life. We are kindred spirits in so many ways. We love all things pink and floral, reminiscing and talking about history. We love theater, mystery novels and fashion. I often try to figure out if it’s nurture, nature or just sheer coincidence that makes us so similar. So far, I don’t quite have an answer.
That day, I went home with a white-beaded purse that belonged to my great-grandmother and a lot of jewelry. I’m always sure to send a picture to my grandma whenever I wear my accessories out so she can kvell about how I styled them.
Being able to share these memories through fashion with my grandmother is a privilege I don’t take lightly. There is nothing I wouldn’t give to be able to share them with my other grandma, Janice, who passed away in 2016.
After her passing, my parents and I flew down to Florida to help my aunts and cousins compile her belongings. One last time, I explored the perfectly coordinated red and black color scheme of my grandma’s house, which was so picturesque that it had been featured in a local magazine.
As I was already a fashion lover, my parents gave me free rein through her giant closet. It was the biggest closet that I had ever seen and was filled with boxes of shoes neatly stacked with an image of the shoes pasted right on the front. Her twin black and white kittens, Allie and Olivia, jumped from rack to rack, keeping me company as I searched.
I sorted through and picked pieces here and there: my grandpa’s car garage shirt embroidered with his name, my grandma’s Palm Beach County Sheriff’s Department volunteer shirt, a white Ralph Lauren top with gold stripes and gold buttons on the shoulder.
One of my favorite pieces of hers that I got to keep is a white cotton collared shirt from Charter Club. Over the past few months, I’ve probably worn it at least once a week. It’s simple yet clean with a little swiss dot pattern that adds a touch of whimsy.
If I could go back in time, I would haul the entire closet in a ginormous suitcase back to New York to preserve her sleek style and all the memories.
For the record, I’m not the first person my grandma has inspired when it comes to fashion. According to her brother, my grandma was the first girl in the neighborhood to wear a bikini to the pool. She was a trendsetter then and remains one now.
Very few things make me smile more than when I’m choosing an outfit and my mom says, “Grandma Janice would’ve worn something like that.” My grandma was not just physically beautiful, but she was a genius and had a heart of gold. Any way to be connected to her means a lot to me.
No, it’s not sheer imitation, even though imitation is the highest form of flattery after all. My style is inspired by an array of influences, some of which I am conscious of and others that go unseen. There are a myriad of forces at work that have inspired me to wear the things I wear and style them the way that I do.
From the pair of shoes I just had to get because of how they looked on a friend to the way I layered a skirt because of how I saw someone else wear theirs, I am not afraid to admit that I’m always taking inspiration from others.
I like to think about personal style like a scrapbook, a mishmash of stickers and ephemera that is layered and stacked in ways you would never expect, but it all comes together so beautifully in the end.
So, when it comes to my personal style scrapbook, I think I have to give my grandma’s co-author credit.
