Free Love, Loss, and What I Wore by Ilene Beckerman

The 1940s
     
    My Brownie uniform.
     
    My mother was a Brownie leader at Hunter College Elementary School, 69th Street, between Lexington and Park.
     
    When I was seven, I went to Camp Brady, a sleep-away camp in Brewster, New York, for Brownies and Girl Scouts. My sister, who was five years older, was a Girl Scout and looked after me at camp.
     
    There was no electricity. We had no flush toilets and had to go in an outhouse.
     

     
    A store-bought brown dressy coat with matching leggings (to keep legs warm) and galoshes (to keep feet dry). I hated putting on the leggings (which were held up by suspenders) and always had a tantrum.
     
    Note the brightly colored mittens. My mother was an excellent knitter and was always making mittens for my sister and me. My sister inherited her knitting skill and made argyle socks, using many bobbins.
     

     
    Rag curls were a popular hairdo.
     
    You made them by tearing old sheets and pillowcases into strips (white was the only color they came in), wrapping the strips around dampened hair, and tying a bow at the bottom.
     
    After a night’s sleep, the rags would be carefully undone and beautiful long curls would appear.
     
    While my mother made our curls, we’d listen to our favorite radio programs. My favorite was
The Lux Radio Theater
because they acted out movies on it.
     
    We lived at 333 East 66th Street, between First and Second Avenues, in a first-floor railroad flat that faced the front. One room was connected to the next in a straight line, like railroad cars.
     

     
    My mother made this gray-and-white-striped seersucker pinafore with red rickrack trim.
     
    She made almost all of my sister’s and my clothes and we had many “sister” dresses. This was one of my mother’s favorite patterns. She also made it in a floral chintz with lace trim.
     
    My sister wore a blouse under her pinafore. I didn’t have to.
     

     
    I wore this black taffeta outfit to dancing school at Ballet Arts in the Carnegie Hall building on 57th Street.
     
    Note colored embroidery across the midriff. My mother made this for me. I liked it very much, but what I really wanted was a store-bought outfit.
     
    Sometimes I would take the crosstown bus to Ballet Arts by myself. My mother would walk me to the bus. She would yell at me for wearing perfume and mascara but forgetting to wash my neck.
     

     
    My mother made this plaid taffeta party dress for my tenth birthday. Note the unusual neckline—straight across—and tiny black velvet bows on each shoulder.
     
    The dress made a wonderful swishing noise when I walked. I wore it to school the day of my birthday and got a lot of attention.
     
    When I walked, I “turned in” on my heels so I had to wear special shoes with arch supports from a store called Julius Grossman’s. Everybody else wore loafers or saddle shoes and for parties red or black Mary Janes, but my shoes were brown and had laces. For parties, I had a brown pair with buckles on the side.
     

     
    White dickey with Peter Pan collar, wool sweater, plaid wool-wrap pleated skirt with safety pin, and high white knee socks.
    A typical outfit I wore to elementary school.
     

     
    My mother made this black velvet hat, lined in quilted red satin. It had decorative trimming and tied under the chin. Sonja Henie, who was an ice-skating movie star, used to wear similar hats.
     
    It used to be very important to keep your ears covered and warm so you didn’t get an ear infection.
     
    Everybody said I looked good in hats. This other hat is a “scotty” hat my mother bought for me. I wore hats on Easter Sunday and Passover.

     
    My mother made this pink, green, and black iridescent-metallic plaid taffeta gown. We bought the material at Macy’s at Herald Square. They had a whole floor just for selling patterns and fabrics.
     
    I wore it to my cousin Sally’s wedding. We weren’t friendly with that side of the family—my father’s—but I was excited to wear an evening