The demise of the Easter dress, a lament
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My family and I aren’t what you’d call “church-y.” We do our Easter celebrating with plastic eggs hidden in grandma’s backyard, a grocery-store bought package of egg dye and a healthy dose of marshmallow Peeps.
But I’m always up for a cultural experience. So a few friends and I donned what we imagined were Easter appropriate dresses and suits and went downtown to the mid-morning mass at the Cathedral of Our Lady of Angels, the seat of the Archdiocese of Los Angeles. And I have to say, I was disappointed.
What happened to dressing up for Easter? Don’t we do that anymore?
I remember being knee high to a grasshopper and standing in the middle of the Jones Store little miss department. (Jones being the department store of choice in Kansas City at the time. Kinda like Dillards or Macy’s.) And there were rows and rows and rows of Easter dresses. Pink ones with white lace. Yellow ones with ducks embroidered around the waist. Purple ones with puffy sleeves and a big bow in the back. There were little ankle socks with lace. And black and white patent leather shoes smaller than the palm of a grown-up’s hand all lined up on the display tables. (Not that any self-respecting 5 year old would wear black patent leather on Easter. Black was for Christmas and the red and green velvet dresses. White was for Easter, to heck with the Labor Day rule.)
The cathedral seats 3,000 people, and it was standing room only. I could only really see a few hundred, I admit. And there weren’t that many small children. But still. I only saw two real Easter dresses. TWO! How can that be?
A little skirt and a jean jacket do not count. I’m sorry. They don’t. And not just any summer-y dress will do either. Easter dresses are special. And you know one when you see it. Not that it’s only a dress. The little girl wearing it will surely have her hair freshly washed and pulled back in a ponytail or maybe pig tails. Her bangs will be trimmed. And her mother might just pull out the curling iron for good measure.
Are the department stores no longer lined with this seasonal finery? Have we been so overtaken by the culture of denim and Bratz dolls, we don’t pay homage to the poofy skirt and spools and spools of lace? What happened to the princess dresses? What happened to Easter?
But I’m always up for a cultural experience. So a few friends and I donned what we imagined were Easter appropriate dresses and suits and went downtown to the mid-morning mass at the Cathedral of Our Lady of Angels, the seat of the Archdiocese of Los Angeles. And I have to say, I was disappointed.
What happened to dressing up for Easter? Don’t we do that anymore?
I remember being knee high to a grasshopper and standing in the middle of the Jones Store little miss department. (Jones being the department store of choice in Kansas City at the time. Kinda like Dillards or Macy’s.) And there were rows and rows and rows of Easter dresses. Pink ones with white lace. Yellow ones with ducks embroidered around the waist. Purple ones with puffy sleeves and a big bow in the back. There were little ankle socks with lace. And black and white patent leather shoes smaller than the palm of a grown-up’s hand all lined up on the display tables. (Not that any self-respecting 5 year old would wear black patent leather on Easter. Black was for Christmas and the red and green velvet dresses. White was for Easter, to heck with the Labor Day rule.)
The cathedral seats 3,000 people, and it was standing room only. I could only really see a few hundred, I admit. And there weren’t that many small children. But still. I only saw two real Easter dresses. TWO! How can that be?
A little skirt and a jean jacket do not count. I’m sorry. They don’t. And not just any summer-y dress will do either. Easter dresses are special. And you know one when you see it. Not that it’s only a dress. The little girl wearing it will surely have her hair freshly washed and pulled back in a ponytail or maybe pig tails. Her bangs will be trimmed. And her mother might just pull out the curling iron for good measure.
Are the department stores no longer lined with this seasonal finery? Have we been so overtaken by the culture of denim and Bratz dolls, we don’t pay homage to the poofy skirt and spools and spools of lace? What happened to the princess dresses? What happened to Easter?
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