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From the American Scene: The Dressmaker

- Abstract

My favorite dress was beginning to wear out. I had bought it once between bus stops in Boston and worn it constantly for five years. When it was fashionable to glitter at five o’clock it was a cocktail gown. Later, it became a short evening gown with no alteration whatsoever. Imagination supplied what the dress lacked, for it was a very simple affair of coral shantung with a high mandarin neck and wing sleeves finished in gold with a slim gold belt. I wore it with my best gold shoes and it made me look almost six feet tall.

I had always cherished the idea of having it copied in pure silk shantung with excellent tailoring instead of the mass-produced shoddy seams with which it had been sewn. Now, if ever, was the time. The seams had pulled, the material was wearing thin, and a few wine stains testified to some carnival spirit of the past.

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