Today’s post combines two of my favorite things: the short stories you read in college and cute pictures of babies. Double win, right?
As discussed, I’m trying to be less clingy to material objects. Since my impulse is to hoard and preserve beautiful special things, it’s not easy to actually use the handmade items people have given me for my children. But I try! And look how cute!
Easter bonnets, hers and his — my granny made this little owl cardigan for Pippin, with a boy and a girl bonnet should we ever have a little girl, and I made sure to have them each wear it for their first Easter. It worked great for both, since Pippin was a chubby baby born in October and Scout was a petite thing born in June.
I think we’ve finally retired this green sweater, also by my Granny, now somewhat felted, but we got two good seasons out of it for Pippin. Here he’s sporting it at the lovely Mount Holyoke College greenhouses when he was two.
Finally, I’m not completely sure of the provenance of this little green cardigan, but I think it was mine when I was a baby. And here are both my cuties sporting it! You get the idea.
The old church ladies always assess the kids’ hand-knit and crocheted clothes with an air of professional appreciation.
In my attempts to be more adventurous, J and I use the shorthand reminder: everyday use. It’s from the Alice Walker story of the same name. In it, a woman must decide between her two daughters who will inherit the family’s heirloom quilts — the educated daughter interested in displaying them for their history, or her loyal, homebody daughter, who would use them on her marriage bed. The enlightened, stylish daughter argues, outraged, “Maggie can’t appreciate these quilts! … She’d probably be backward enough to put them to everyday use.”
Her mama answers her, “‘I reckon she would,’ I said. ‘God knows I been saving ’em for long enough with nobody using ’em. I hope she will!’”
And…that’s the point. Clothes, even beautiful handmade things, are made to be worn. They won’t pass pristinely down to future siblings or future generations, but their felting and snagging and staining will tell the story of their everyday use, and that’s a story worth telling.