I don't remember what my grandmother wore at her wedding. I know she told me, but I just don't remember. I remember that my grandfather wore a blue serge suit, whatever serge is. ("A twilled cloth of worsted or worsted and wool, often used for suits" says the Free Online Dictionary.)
I know what colors my aunts are wearing in this great old black-and-white photo taken just about 100 years ago. My grandmother is wearing dark blue, my Aunt Georgia is wearing red, my great-grandmother is wearing dark green with black velvet facings, and Aunt Jessie, the baby, is wearing dotted Swiss, another great old fabric. (My prom dress was mint green dotted Swiss.)
|Clockwise, from top: my grandmother, Fannie Castle;|
her mother, Florida Day Castle; her baby sister, Jessie Castle;
her sister, Georgia Castle
You don't even hear the names of fabrics from my growing-up years anymore. In the 1960s there was madras. That was a great fad. It was this plaid fabric from India, worn by both girls and boys. If you had the real thing, it bled in the wash. Why this was cool I don't know, but it was. There was seersucker--a great spring and summer fabric that even men wore in suits. There was chambray. Everybody had a chambray shirt to wear with their jeans. I embroidered matching ones for me and my boyfriend.
Embroidery was my thing, because it sure wasn't sewing. If I had had one bit of talent in art or clothing construction, I probably could have been a fashion designer. I had all these outfits in my head. Instead I took Home Economics in 7th grade, and I'm pretty sure I drove my teacher to despair. I guess it's a good thing we don't have to make our own clothes anymore, or I would have to stay home a lot.