Generations Dress

When I was five years old, my mother's mother altered her strapless sequined gown and gave it to me for my collection of dress-up clothing. I loved that dress, and I loved my mother's mother. She was unlike most grown-ups. She played with me and encouraged me to use my imagination. When, at the age of fifty-three, she was diagnosed with breast cancer and underwent chemotherapy, she moved in with us. I would crawl into bed with her in the mornings, and it became a ship. When her hair fell out, she would tie a scarf around her scalp like a pirate's bandanna and I would slip into the sequin dress and pretend I was the pirate queen. We conjured adventures out of thin air. After she passed away, I remember standing in front of our living room's bay window, wearing that dress. The afternoon sunlight spilled in, bounced off the sequins, and scattered into small discs of light on the pale walls. I spun and sashayed across the room, and imagined she was there, watching me. Now, this raven-hued, fully lined, sequin dress conjures vivid memories of that dress my grandmother gave me. While its sleek, micro-mini cut, deep plunging back, and undulating rows of gleaming sequins make this dress decidedly more modern, there is something about it that evokes a nearly visceral response in me. When I wear it, I will imagine my grandmother can see me - the woman I've become. I will hope she is proud. -Jennifer, Fashion Writer