The Gingham Dresses

I lived in a neighborhood full of kids.  
I was one of five.  
The Shipae's had six. 
The Vershouskie's had four, 
and there were several other families on the block that  with only two or three. 
There were no only children!


Most of the kids were girls.  I was one of the youngest.


All of our mothers stayed home,  and it seemed they were pretty good friends.

One summer my mother somehow acquired a large amount of red gingham fabric.


And she began to sew.


And sew, and sew.


Dresses.  

Dresses that all looked the same for all of the neighborhood girls.

 

I remember they had several sections  on the very full skirt, and each section was separated by a ruffle and row of red rickrack.  


 Miles of red rickrack!


One of the reasons I remember those dresses so well was that I got to wear them for years! 


 I wore mine.
 I wore my big sister, Ellen's.
 I wore my bigger sister, Lenore's, 
and the hand-me-downs of a few other older neighbor girls.


I think I was in Junior High before I finally grew out of the last of those gingham dresses!  


And boy, was I glad.