When we moved into that little bungalow back in the middle 1980s, I remarked to my mother that our new attic would be altogether perfect if it had a dressmaker’s form and a birdcage. Because that’s what storybook attics have, right? On her following visit to Chicago, Miss Gigi happily handed me her very own, dusty, rusty — but still trim — dress dummy. (You never saw a husband so happy as mine, lugging that lavender beauty and her cobwebs into our already crowded attic. He loves me.)
We lived with a walk-up attic for only 10 years. Since then, our homes have all had crawl-space attics. No place for a lady. So for 20 years, she has been perfectly postured in basement corners, doing what she does best: spooking small children and protecting baby spiders.
This afternoon, I was looking online at solutions for organizing bracelets, necklaces, pins, and earrings. Because I’ve recently pledged to be more accessorized. I have accessories, but they’re kind of out-of-sight-out-of-mind. So in my self-inflicted morning dash, I do not take time to hunt down Aunt Rowena’s silver pin of acorns and oak leaves that would be so right with my sweater. Isn’t that a pity? But how are 80 vinyl pockets on a hanger in my closet going to remind me to choose a cool pair of dangly earrings on my way downstairs? They’d still be out of sight, right?
Look who had the answer. I’m sure I’ve seen something like this in an antique shop somewhere, but isn’t she darling? Around her waist is a vintage measuring tape from Vivian’s sewing basket. And if I actually owned any stick pins or hat pins, I’d store them in that cute lil mater cushion.
You know what they say. It is never too late to reinvent yourself.
ginnygram 