Lace and Lots of it!

With my daughter at my nephew's fiancée's bridal shower (always caught with food in my mouth!!!) Lace for all! My lace tank (with attached tank underneath) and linen wide-leg pants from Burlington Coat Factory.  Scarf from Cold Water Creek.

I love lace. I'm finding if everywhere I shop and I'm rolling around in it!  I've worn more lace in the last month than ever in my entire life. I didn't realize how lace-deprived I've felt until I added some to my summer wardrobe. I think this craving has been very deep-seated and requires analysis, so here we go.


I loved my momma. However, she would get things stuck in her head and there was no getting them out of there. She had opinions about everything. I agreed with many of her sensible ideas.  But, as I matured, I realized some many of them were irrational. These ideas may have sprung from something painful she took to heart at some point in her life and through the years solidified like petrified wood. For example, I love hydrangeas. I have seven in my garden, all different varieties and colors. Momma hated them. She called them "graveyard bushes" as Victorians frequently planted old-fashioned Hydrangeas in local cemeteries. Once she got something in her head, that was it.

One of her many opinions about fashion and style included the idea that a big girl should never wear lace or ruffles. period. I was born long and underweight but once solid food entered my mouth, that was where the skinny stopped. I've been close to six feet tall since adolescence and although my weight fluctuates like the stock market, I've never been slender. Even my hat size is proportionately larger than average. I digress.
As a tot, I'd drool over the fancy dresses in the Montgomery Ward catalog and wished that one of those pink, blue, yellow ruffly organza numbers with the bow in the back could be mine. I got to wear one once. I was staying at my cousin's house one summer. She was invited to a birthday party so I was invited to attend tag along. Alas, with nothing to wear, my aunt dug into my cousin's closet to come up with an appropriate outfit for me. I don't remember the dress but the crinoline slip had a hoop along the bottom edge. Until that day, a big ole crinoline slip had also been my heart's desire, to wear under one of those little organdy dresses. Of course, without the slip, one of those poofs of pastel loveliness would have drooped like a limp salad. I discovered that day was that I didn't really have the patience to think before I sat down. Every time I sat, the hoop stood at attention and so did the little dress.  That little dress was nowhere as flowing as Scarlet O'Hara's so flashing my lollipop cotton undies wasn't quite as fetching, requiring me to rearrange the party get-up all afternoon. I gave up on the frilly dresses as a bad idea.

When I got married for the first time (38 years ago) Momma was clear. Stick to the off-white and no veil. You're no virgin. At that time, I was not one to make a scene. That would come much later. I caved.  Plus, my first choice had been an unusual dress with an open hood (it had been featured in a bridal magazine) and Momma was buying. You'll be happy to know, I did draw the line at having a big red "A" embroidered on the front.



  1. Love your lace! I'm like you in that I've bought more lace in the last couple of years than ever before. In fact, there were many years when I didn't like lace at all. My, how our tastes change over the course of a lifetime.
    Heather from Friendship, Life and Style

  2. I adore lace too, especially this year! We do change and isn't it wonderful? Thanks so much for linking up to Visible Monday.


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