INTERLUDE: ON SUNDAY CLOTHES

Sunday School anniversaries were held in the spring. Every year, little Congregational girls had a new summer dress.

As Congregationalists we wore church clothes to church, said one woman. “Sunday best” was a phrase generally used at the time.

Like women everywhere, participants looked back at events, and knew what they were wearing.

I remember singing my first solo wearing my new anniversary outfit, a summer dress trimmed with pale yellow ribbons with matching straw hat, said one.

Others continued the theme.

A pale blue robia voile dress, handmade by my mother on her Singer treadle sewing machine, because it was only a few years after the war, and there are still many scarcities. Besides, good mothers made their children’s clothes.

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Shoes? said one woman. I can’t exactly picture them, but I know we went to the city to buy new shoes and had our feet x-rayed.

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We had a new best dress for the anniversary, our new dress for the year. One year mine was a pale green and white check in some soft material, with puffed sleeves piped in white, a white collar, and a sash which was sewn on at the sides and tied at the back. I loved that dress. It was not made by my mother, because my aunt was a professional dressmaker, a very good one; she sewed it on the treadle sewing machine that she used all her life, said another. A big hair-ribbon tied in a bow, with the hair gathered to the side. A side parting, and bobby pins. The boys wore grey short trousers and v-necked knitted pullovers.

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Another said, I remember Christine at the Sunday School anniversary wearing something beautiful. I wished and wished I had one. It wasn’t a cardigan, it had short sleeves. A bolero. Yes, and it was made out of probably mohair, incredibly soft. Angora? That’s right. It was pale yellow and it was so beautiful ...

A new dress for the anniversary? Oh yes. Every year. My sister and I used to have the same design in different material. One had the most extraordinary collar, like a rectangle with a circle in the centre for the head, a sailor collar. And with a white band all around the edge. Cotton, floral, with deep pink and mauve flowers. My sister’s was pale yellow and green. And on our feet black patent leather shoes with a strap, just for Sundays. We cleaned them with cream in a jar. And white socks turned over at the top. On Saturday night my mother put my hair in rags to make Shirley Temple curls and it was tied back. With ribbons? Of course. Satin and about an inch wide.

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Our best grey shorts, said a man. A plain open-necked sports shirt, probably white, and a pullover if it was cold. Our best clothes, clean and tidy. Long socks, black shoes. Alf conducted dress inspection. “Pull your socks up, boy,” he’d say as we started to climb up the platform at the Sunday School anniversary.

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Next: Chapter 2. Church Music

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